


Nihil Admirari

by AnemicLove



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emergency - Freeform, Emergenji, F/M, Fluff, Gency, Genji x Mercy - Freeform, Genji/Mercy - Freeform, Multichapter, Not sure how long, mercy x genji - Freeform, mercy/genji - Freeform, pretty much a bit of everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnemicLove/pseuds/AnemicLove
Summary: Genji and Angela reunite after years of being apart. They spend the night remembering past adventures.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun had come out after a long rain the day Angela received the letter.

For the past three weeks, she had been stationed at an outpost on the border of Iraq, tending to victims of a recent explosion. She was curious, at first, as she there was no one she knew who would have tried to contact her. The location was remote, and she had left no indication she was not in her native Switzerland.

Her name was scrawled across the front of if it in shaky handwriting. The letters were familiar, but slightly unclear. Only a handful of her contacts still communicated in such an archaic fashion. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of who she thought it might be. Of who she hoped it would be.

Angela’s suspicions were confirmed when she broke the seal off the back. It fluttered down languidly to the ground beneath her feet, like a leaf dancing in a weak autumn wind. Kneeling, she plucked it off the ground and held it upward, the strip of light from the opening in the medical tent setting every detail ablaze. The top of it was a dark brown, but gradually faded to a light gray. Tear drop shaped is what she would have called it, and it had a faint stripe pattern along the plush edges. She turned her body away from the others in the tent and allowed herself to smile.

A sparrow feather. Angela clutched it in her hands as she unfolded the letter. Once she had taken a few deep breaths to calm her heart, she read the letter one word at a time: 

 

> _Dr. Ziegler,_
> 
> _I write this in hope that it finds you._
> 
> _The recall message that was sent to the former Overwatch agents also found me. In truth, the first thing I thought to do was reach out to you. It has been long, far too long, since you and I last spoke to one another face to face._
> 
> _If it is possible, I would like to meet you. I do not know if you have considered what has been asked of us, but perhaps we could decide what actions to take together? Should we reunite with the former agents of Overwatch?_
> 
> _I have already traveled from Los Angeles, California in the Unites States of America to Nepal with my master. I plan to travel to Lucerne, where you once told me your home was. I will wait outside of your home as night falls on the last day of the month. If you are no present, I will wait four days in the city for you. When the four days pass and I have still not seen you, I will take that as an answer to my question._
> 
> _I confess that I hope to see you._
> 
> _Genji_

Underneath his signature was a line written in his native Japanese. While Angela could decipher pieces if spoken, she was utterly lost when it came to reading kanji. The sentence caused her to frown in frustration. Genji was more than aware of her difficulty, yet he still chose to write in it? Perhaps it had been a secret code in case the letter fell into the wrong hands? Or was it a message that intended to entice her into meeting with him in Switzerland?

“Dr. Ziegler?”

The voice of a nurse brought Angela out of her reverie.

“Y-Yes, is something the matter?”

The nurse purse her mouth, her eyes gravitating to the paper in Angela’s hand for the briefest of moments. “We’re done for the day, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll be right out.”

Spinning on her heel, the nurse exited the tent in quick strides, either unsatisfied or chagrined.

Angela sighed and tucked the letter inside of her white coat. The more important question was that of Overwatch. Three weeks had passed since the message sent by Winston. She had arrived at the outpost in Iraq only three days before the recall. It had woken her up in the middle of the night, and she had spent what felt like hours trying to tell herself to go back to bed—she was dreaming though she wasn’t asleep, she was drunk though she hadn’t sipped anything—instead of listening to the faint beeping from her old communicator. Temptation whittled her down, and seeing Winston’s face pulled all the sweet memories of the past that she had buried deep within her to the forefront.

Yet she hesitated. Was the restoration of Overwatch the right choice? The voice of her conscience reminded her of her life’s important maxim: save lives. Don’t let anyone go through what she had. To be part of something bigger again, to be reunited with those she had long considered her family—it all felt like a wish come true. But Overwatch did not always save lives. Many nights Angela went to bed after a mission disgruntled. But none compared to the betrayal she felt when the demons of Blackwatch were exposed. If there was even the slightest chance that Overwatch could vaguely return, the same was also true for its darker offshoot.

_Not to mention it is illegal now…_

Angela placed her hand over her heart, where Genji’s letter had been hidden. Knowing that she wasn’t the only one who had misgivings was comforting. And years had passed since she had seen his face, heard the comforting timbre of his voice. There were so many memoires they had shared; so many things she had replayed like a broken record in her mind when she felt wistful. Would the sight of him help bring joy back to her past? Would the sight of him put these disquieted feelings Angela had kept secret to rest?

She brought the sparrow feather still in her hands to her nose. A faint wisp of incense lingered on the down. It tickled her cheeks, and a grin blossomed on her face. His scent on it was what she wanted, and because it wasn’t there, she felt her entire body ache from the desire to catch a whiff of it.

Angela pulled her communicator to radio the nearest military base. She tapped the shining blue screen and waited for an answer.

“Radio Control Tower. What is your emergency?”  
           

“This is Dr. Angela Ziegler from forward camp 2-B. Can you tell me the fastest way to get to Turkey?”

~*~*~

After two long flights and endless bus rides, Angela finally made it to the Zurich Airport. From there, it was another tram ride and a taxi before she could reach her apartment building. Getting the luxury loft had taken time and a lot of saved money, but a home of her own was something Angela had felt like she needed to move on from her status as an orphan. It was freeing and cleansing. She hurriedly unlocked the front door, threw her bags in her bedroom and took a long, hot shower. Nervousness had caused her to tremble, but she let the steam of the bath relax her. It had been so long since she and Genji had been in the same room; so much between them had been left unsaid. She wanted this to be the moment where they could reconnect. The moment where they could finally bring everything they had ever felt to the surface, exposed and raw, and find a way through the dark.

Only time could tell if it would end up the way she wanted it too.

Early afternoon had become late afternoon faster than she had wished, and she knew that the time of Genji’s arrival was drawing near. Angela ran into her bedroom and changed into some older clothes in preparation for the cooking and cleaning she would do. A quick survey of the loft revealed to her the dust that had caked onto most of the wood furniture that had been left exposed.

_How can there be so much dust in one place?_

Angela did a quick sweep of both bathrooms and bedrooms to make sure nothing had broken while she had been in Iraq. Luckily enough, the dust was the biggest problem. She meticulously scrubbed and wiped until every speck of the insulting dust had vanished. At nightfall, when the waxing moon shone in the sky above the city, Angela changed from her old cleaning clothes into a pair of black leggings and fluffy white sweater. The last thing she did was set out some Swiss chocolates she had bought at the airport and set a large copper pot on her stove top to boil.

_That is…everything?_

Satisfied, Angela allowed herself to take a moment to breathe. Her apartment smelled fresh, she felt rejuvenated, but the shaking she had thought she mitigated had returned now that she knew the moment she had dreamed of was so close. Angela knew that she had not changed much. She was older, true, but the Angela Zeigler that had been a beacon in Overwatch, who had longed to do good, was still very much intact. From the letter that Genji sent her, Angela felt something—the true essence that was Genji Shimada—might not be what she remembered.

Angela bounded the stairs to the loft that served as her living room. It was cool because of the windows at the French doors that led to the balcony. She was ready to grab a book and wait for the doorbell to ring, but she was frozen in place from what she saw as soon as she reached the top of the stairs.

Through the clear glass, she saw a familiar man dressed in metal. He was seated on the ledge between the sky and the balcony floor. His legs were folded, and he seemed to be meditating. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Genji Shimada.

Angela suddenly saw the gap between them closing; she had not even realized that she had started to move towards him. For a moment, her hand hovered over the doorknob. She would probably surprise him, but what would she say? Saying hello seemed so hollow, but everything she wanted to say was too soon for the beginning. Should she say that she missed him? It seemed like the appropriate middle ground.

“Angela.”

She looked up. Through the other side of the door, Genji was standing before her. His mask covered his face, so only the glowing light that covered his eyes was visible. At first glance, he had not physically changed, but Angela felt foolish once the thought crossed her mind. Genji would likely stay at his pique for longer than most. But in his hands, were a bunch of red flowers she could not recognize. He clutched the bouquet by the stems and cradled the flowers with the other. But the fact that he was here before her, that she could feel the warmth of his body radiating despite what was between them, made her half to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from crying. There was a tranquility there that she had never sensed before.

Genji cleared his throat and said, “May I come in?”

“Oh, yes! Yes, I’m sorry Genji,” Angela muttered, her face growing red. She threw the door open quickly and stepped out of his way. She gestured with her arm for him to enter. He bowed slowly, then took a couple steps inside.

“I was just-just so surprised to see you!”

Genji chuckled, then said, “I believe you. Through the door, I heard you run to greet me.”

Angela bit down on her lip this time. It had been only minutes, and she was already wishing she could rewind time and do the whole moment over again.

“Well, I certainly expected you at the door, not at my balcony.”

Genji walked up to Angela and held the flowers out to her. He said, “If I frightened you, perhaps these can serve as an apology? Hopefully you like the smell of camellias.”

Angela felt her mouth twitch from bashfulness. Genji had always been a bit flirtatious. She struggled to admit that she was glad that part of him had stayed the same.

As she took the flowers from his hands, she said, “Lucky for you, I am easily won over with flowers. But can I interest you in chocolate and green tea? I remember you don’t like black tea.”

“Chocolates _and_ tea? It seems my gift is inadequate in comparison. You have outdone me yet again, doctor.”

“Oh, no. You being here means more to me than—“

Angela stopped herself when she realized she was about to cross the line she had made. She played with the petals of one of the flowers, then smiled up at him. She closed her eyes to avoid watching him.

“Let me put these in water, then we can have tea and chat. I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.”

Striding swiftly, Angela cleared the distance from the couch and the stairs. She went into the kitchen and poured them both a cup of green tea. Before bring up the cups, she threw out a bunch of fake roses in a vase and replaced them with the camellias along with water and a pinch of sugar. When she made it back up to the loft, Genji was seated on the brown leather chair across from the sofa. There was a photo frame in his hands, and he sat with one leg laying perpendicular to the other.

“Which photo did you grab?"

Genji looked up and watched Angela set the tray on the low coffee table. He turned it around for her to look.

“Ah,” she said, “that was when I gave a lecture in Tehran about how nanobiology helps cancer patients. The professors there were very kind, intelligent people.

“It seems you have been quite busy,” Genji said, his tone was pleasant, but even Angela could tell he was probing for information.

“I suppose. Though I’ve spent most of my time helping war victims in a military outpost in Iraq. So being home feels even more like a luxury.”

“I must agree. I, too, have lived in a rural location for so long. The city is energizing. I feel as though I am seeing it in a new light.”

Angela looked down at her teacup and focused on her subtle reflection in the swirling green tea. She only brought her face up when she heard Genji removing the plate that covered his face, as well as the helmet that hid his hair. Angela found herself transfixed on his face, which had become sharper and more mature with age, but his hair—which was a wild black mess—was the same as it was in his youth. The scar that had cut vertically down his left side had faded; the healing would have imperceptive to anyone who had not studied his face as scrupulously has she had.

Genji brought his own teacup to his lips and took a sip. He offered her a serene smile and said “thank you” in his native Japanese.

Angela’s whole body tensed up. He was still so, so handsome.

“I might visit you to ask for more tea, doctor,” Genji said, followed by a low chuckle.

Angela shrugged and said, “Well, I suppose you could convince me.”

Genji’s smile widened, and Angela found herself smiling back at him. They stared at each other’s faces in silence for a spell, but Genji broke it when he said, “It has been…so very long since I have seen your face, doctor.”

“I-I was thinking the exact same thing, Genji. I regret not getting in contact with you sooner. But with what happened with Overwatch…I wasn’t sure if it was the safest thing.”

Genji adjusted in his seat to sit with folded legs. “You made the right choice, doctor. As I was never in one place for long, you might have troubled yourself needlessly.”

“So you moved often?”

“It was…more like wandering. I was…searching, of course.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.”

Angela and Genji both sipped on their tea at the same time. Angela reached in the middle and grabbed a piece of chocolate; the middle was filled with smooth chocolate cream, and the decadence as she ate it gave her goosebumps. She licked her fingers just to make sure she had not wasted a bite. Genji’s low chuckled bubbled up to ears, and she couldn’t help but wink at him.

“There is nothing like good Swiss chocolate. It’s even sweeter having been in the middle east for so long.”

“I confess, there’s nothing quite like watching you eat them.”

Her hands tightened around her teacup. She wasn’t sure if Genji had intentionally tried to cause such an aggressive sexual tension between them, but it was happening regardless. It was all she could do to keep a straight face.

“Ange—doctor. I…wanted to tell you something.”

Ice swam in her veins. She nodded as she waited for Genji to speak.

His dark eyes were drawn to his feet, but then back up to her. “I wanted to formally thank you. For what happened when I first came to Overwatch. It was you who saved my life. Had it not been for your intervention, I would not be the man standing here before you today. I can never repay you for what you have sacrificed on this life of mine. I can only swear an undying loyalty to you, and a promise that, from this point onward, you will never have to look far to find me.”

Genji’s words left Angela stunned; she couldn’t find the words she wanted him to hear. The tears that had threatened her before stung her eyes as they tried to escape, but Angela forced herself to show Genji a smile as he spoke.

“Genji, you do not have to thank me. I would make the same decision all over again. You were a man who deserved a second chance at life; I could tell that by just looking at you.”

“Even though you did not know me, you could tell that I was a man worth saving?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, hoping her staunchness could be echoed in her words.

 “Then I owe you more than I had thought before. Not only did you save me, but you alone believed in me. You are truly a woman above all others.”

“I think the praise you are heaping on me is a bit unnecessary, Genji,” Angela said, then laughed.

 “Not at all, doctor. I still remember the day that I heard your voice for the first time. I was wondering in infinite darkness, and it was you who called out to me. It was you who helped me find my way back to the light.”

Angela’s eyed widened. “You…remember when you were in the coma?" 

Immediately after Genji nodded, Angela leaned forward and studied him with wary eyes. “Can…can you tell me what you remember? I believe that you do, but…it just seems so…impossible?”

Genji smirked wryly. “Well, doctor, I would be happy to remember my first moments together with you.”

Angela gulped down the last of her cup of tea as she waited for Genji to begin his story.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness had crept up in the form of black veins swallowing his vision. And that was his world for a long time. He walked the line between life and death; the fact that he could think let him know that he was still clinging to life. Barely. 

The only way Genji could see color, hear or feel alive was through his memories. But the memories that he had been forced to relive were akin to ruthless chasms of nightmares. He felt the pain and emptiness of death. He saw the murder in his brother’s eyes; the fierceness of a dragon staring him down. Unsympathetic, unequivocal, unwavering. It was the fire in Hanzo’s eyes that allowed Genji to resign. In the last moments that he drew breath, he felt like this was the chance he had to feel truly alive (as caustic as it sounded). And so, he did not run from the darkness. He embraced it with open arms.

But there was something there. Something that threatened to pluck him from the mire of death that he had been steeped in. He could not feel, could not speak. Yet his ears could pick up a sound. One he could not place. Sweet and smooth; it relaxed him. In a vain effort, he tried to move, to reach out to the voice, but to no avail. The harder he resisted, the more his own body seemed to fight back. Only the soul left inside had the strength to rebel from the oblivion that threatened to consume him.

Genji’s whole being honed in on the sound; the more he listened, the easier it was for him to discern it. It was light, like the call of a bird. He felt a strange kinship with it because of that metaphor, as he himself was the Sparrow to his family. Former family. The sound pleased him, and before long, he had the epiphany that it wasn’t wholly intelligible. There were words there. Words he could recognize.

“Can…speak?”

_Speak. Speak._

It was English. Not his mother tongue. He wanted to tell them he could. Though he could not move his lips, could not feel his throat, he tried to answer it. What was it, the English word he was looking for?

_Yes. Yes._

Though his senses had been jammed, Genji realized it must have worked; there were additional sounds, much unlike the sweet trill he had listened to for what felt like years. These were the noises he did not like. A painful cacophony. He wanted to cry out, to run away from the discord that antagonized him. It burned; it was angry. And then he found himself falling back into the black void, the place devoid of joy or sorrow. The realm of nihility. But he went back with newfound determination. That discord was the first time he realized that there were things that he could still feel. Even if it was just pain, it was a start. He waited with bated breath for another sign.

Just when he felt like the agony of the darkness would never leave him, he found himself heading towards the light. The sound had returned, and this time, he could hear the words so clearly that it frightened him.

“Love is anterior to life…posterior to death…initial of creation, and…the exponent of breath.”

The voice’s words were so foreign that he found it difficult to comprehend. While he considered himself to be bilingual, he wasn’t adept at the language. Just with his ears, however, he knew it was far too ornate to be commonly spoken. This English was archaic and new. Yet he found himself enamored with the phrase. He attached to it, repeated in his head continually. An exponent of breath. What did it mean? That love was a footnote of conversation? That love exists beyond the realm of comprehension, beyond time and beyond life? It was beautiful, it was mysterious, and it was his.

For time immeasurable, he would wait to hear the cryptic code from the angelic voice. When he could not hear it, he pined for it. Whispers of wild nights, running rivers and perfect dreams filled him to the brim with ecstasy. It was an addiction; sweet release. Had he the ability, the irony would have made him laugh. Vices had led to his destruction, yet here he was, finding another. Nonetheless, the abyss he was tumbling through had sowed the seeds of apathy and anger within. He cared not for the people who he once called family, for the forces that had somehow kept him breathing and for himself.

The words spoken to him, the entity of unknown origin, had reignited the spark that his temporary death had caused. Genji made a promise to himself: he would live for two reasons. The first: to be the ruin of the Shimada just as they were his. The second: to find this voice, this heavenly body, and devote himself to it. They would be his baptism into his new life. Thus, Genji decided to find a way out of the spiraling vacuum that had trapped him.

Genji broke free on a summer morning.

The voice was there, allowing him to listen to its soft chanting, when the words became real to him.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. If I can ease one life the aching,or cool one pain, or help one fainting sparrow unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.”

Sparrow. It could be no one else but him. In that one moment, Genji felt a tight but welcoming swelling in his chest. He could feel himself breathing again. He could feel himself hoping again. The voice was not a dream he had made up to give himself false comfort. It knew, it felt his wretchedness, his shame, his ire. This ethereal sound was there to save him from the brink of death, to rekindle his verve for life and to resurrect his will. The whole of his being began to vibrate with the sheer force of his resolve. Every cell Genji had began to burst, and it was then that he saw true light.

Genji opened his eyes.

The brightness burned, but he forced himself to keep them open. The devouring darkness him had dispersed. His metamorphosis was complete. Focusing his vision took longer than anticipated, but as he relearned how to open and close his mouth, which was dry, eventually he was able to take in his surroundings. Above him was a white vaulted ceiling. Beneath his left side, he could feel cool cloth and a plush mattress. He could not feel below his thighs, and while he knew he could breath, the right side of his chest seemed not to move as he took in air. Yet, like he thought, he could hear just fine. He heard the rushed beeping of a heart monitor, shoes tapping the floor as they rushed about, the droning of a television as it reported recent news.

And the first voice he heard was the one that had been with him for so long.

Though he could not see or tell where it was coming from, he heard it ask, “Speak English?” in broken Japanese.

Genji responded, “Yes”. It took him a minute to realize the croaky reply was his own.

Afterward, he heard more footsteps approaching, and the face of a woman came into view. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. She had white blond hair tied up fashionably. Eyes that could have been plucked from the sky itself. Her smile was crooked, but charming. On her face was light makeup, and she smelled of blackberries. He became aware of the oxygen tubes connected to his nose from her sweet scent. She was the person whose voice had held his hand through his nightmare. Genji had so much he wished to tell her—so much thanks to express—but the longer he stayed awake, the more the pain became overwhelming. Fighting the urge to fall back into the darkness was taking everything he had.

The woman before him asked, “Genji Shimada is your name, isn’t it?” 

Curtly, Genji answered “Yes…”

Her brow furrowed. He did not like seeing her face not smiling. “Are you in pain, Genji?”

“No,” he replied.

“If you need morphine, Genji—“

“No,” he said intensely.

From her unchanging expression, Genji could tell he had not convinced her. Mustering up his courage, Genji prepared to speak in full sentences.

“Where…am…I?”

“Switzerland.”

If laughing wouldn’t have caused him to faint, he would have.

“Who…are y-you?”

“My name is Dr. Zeigler. My…associates…rescued you from the Shimada.”

Genji closed his eyes, but the blackness he saw made him uneasy. He opened them again and turned his head slightly. Dr. Zeigler placed a hand on his forehead and stopped his movement. Her cool palm was like a balm for a burn; she had a pacific touch.

“Don’t move too much, Genji. You’re nowhere near full recovery yet.”

Once Dr. Zeigler pulled her hand away, Genji tried to move his head again but found that his neck wouldn’t co-operate. His heart monitor’s beeping sped up, though Genji was too panicked to feel his own heartbeat. The doctor looked back and forth between them, and she placed her hand back on his forehead to calm him. It seemed to work, and then she spoke again.

“Genji, please try to remain calm. I don’t want to sedate you again, but—“

“Do. Not,” Genji said, a desperate fire in his tone.

Dr. Zeigler frowned. She nodded once, and then disappeared from his vision. When she came back, she helped him drink some water. The liquid helped his parched mouth, and he found it much easier to talk.

“I thought…I had died,” Genji said, keeping his eyes on the cup of water in her hands.

“You’re not wholly wrong.”

Genji took as deep a breath as his lungs would allow.

“Doctor, how…am I alive?”

The doctor sighed and set the cup of water down somewhere. She turned back to Genji and flashed a wide smile; it barred all her white teeth. “Well, you can thank myself and Overwatch for that.”

He recognized the name Overwatch. He knew that they had helped the United Nations stop the Omnic Crisis, that they were a team of special agents that worked for peace, and that they heavily opposed the Shimada. Genji felt himself smile; he couldn’t remember the last time he felt he could.

“I see…Overwatch.”

“Yes…we know that the Shimada and Overwatch don’t see eye to eye, but—“

“Do not…mistake me, doctor. I…have left the Shimada…”

“Ah, I see,” she said flatly. Genji was almost afraid of the lack of emotion in her voice.

“It seems…you are…displeased?”

Genji saw the doctor try and hide an amused smirk by wiping her lips with her thumb. “Well, I…”

Her discomfort was obvious, so Genji did not press her. He changed the subject by asking “What…is wrong with me, Doctor?”

Dr. Zeigler’s displeasure seemingly increased as he made the inquiry. She pinched the bridge of her nose and did not respond to him straightaway. Her face glided out of his vision, and he heard a chair scraping against the floor. As the paleness of her face reappeared, her eyes were closed. And when she reopened them, she began to speak.

“You must try to remain calm when I tell you this, Genji. Normally, I would wait until you’ve been conscious for a few days to respond, but your recovery has gone so well, I don’t see any reason to keep it from you anymore. I will warn you, however, if your heart begins to fail, I’ll have to sedate you again. You understand, don’t you?”

Genji tried to nod, but he replied “Yes, doctor,” when he remembered he could not.

The doctor placed a hand on his left one. She squeezed it loosely, before she started explaining.

“Genji, technically you should be dead. Most your body is…unsalvageable.”

Genji felt his breathing become rapid, but he reined himself in. He would be damned if he let himself get sedated.

She tightened her grip on his hand as she continued: “We’ve…already had to amputate both your legs at the knee. Your entire right side, including your right arm, is gone. The same is true with your spine and neck. You’re being kept alive via machine currently. You’ve already had some renovation on your throat so we could speak with you. Had it not been for the fact that your brain, head and heart were mostly untouched, even I could not have saved you.”

As Dr. Zeigler listed the parts of his body, he told his brain to search for them. Genji found he could not feel much, though he had sensations below his waist and on his left side. But turning his head was almost impossible, and he felt only emptiness halfway down his thighs. The realization that he was merely a hunk of flesh hit him hard; the heart monitor cried out in rapid bursts, and his eyes clouded from the tears he could not cry. The woe and fury that swirled in his veins flowed freely through him, and his vision blurred and shook until the darkness took him away again.

But Genji did not remember his sleep this time. He opened his eyes late one evening, which the sound of owls could be heard outside his window. Gentle snoring was mixed in with it, and he wished on the stars he could not see that it was Dr. Zeigler’s. Noticeably, Genji’s vitality had increased from the last time he had woken, and he felt much less pain when he spoke.

“Are you there, doctor?”

He heard stirring despite how quiet it was, but no one appeared over him. He repeated his statement, and it was then that he heard a woman’s yawn. Certainly, it was her.

Footsteps, then her face. She peered down at him with a fraught expression.

“Forgive me, Genji, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you so much so soon. You panicked, and I—“

“Thank you, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji managed to say with a smile. “Thank you for saving me.”

A smile adorned her face, and in that moment Genji knew that he had made the right decision. Once the Shimada were obliterated, he would protect that smile for the rest of his days.

~*~*~

In the months that followed, Genji’s life was never a dull moment. He spent much time talking with Dr. Zeigler, who caught him up to speed. Genji had been in a coma for slightly more than a year, though the coma became medically indunced seven months prior when he awoke too soon. He had been brought to Overwatch HQ, and resided in a private room at their official hospital. The doctor had intervened when he had been rescued to attempt to save his life, and he approved of her plan to rebuild the parts of his body that were missing via cybernetics. She impressed upon him the weightiness of the decision, but Genji did not care. Anything to help him with his new objectives would be considered a boon and a blessing. He also spent time learning about who the doctor was. Her name was Angela Ziegler, a native to Switzerland, and she had been devoted to the field of medicine since a young age. Though Angela had encouraged him to call her by her name, Genji declined. The nuances of his culture as well as his great respect for the woman that had saved his life demanded that he call her by the title she had earned. Angela did not argue with him.

During this time, Genji was also introduced to many important people in Overwatch’s ranks. First was Torbjorn Lindholm, a short and stout man who would be overseeing his physical reconstruction with Dr. Zeigler. He was also introduced to the recently appointed Strike Commander Jack Morrison as well as high ranking military officer Gabriel Reyes. Their mission had been to question Genji Shimada, to probe him for information about the syndicate as well as to access his loyalty to them. It was plain to him that they were distrustful, and rightfully so. But Genji addressed them candidly; he told them that his goal was to take down the Shimada clan, and that if helping Overwatch furthered his goal, he would be willing to do so.

Subsequent to his declaration, Commader Morrison, Reyes and Engineer Lindholm proposed reworking Genji’s reconstruction; they would focus on weaponization instead of practicality. His limbs would be made into tools of destruction in exchange for allying with Overwatch. Their projected time frame was half a year of renovations followed by another four months of physical therapy. Genji welcomed the idea (and planned to speed it along as best he could) but Angela Zeigler was adamantly against it.

She approached Genji about it when they had been able to sit him upright in his hospital bed, but motion was still out of his reach. The doctor was palpably upset when she confronted him; the vitriol she felt towards the deal he had made with Overwatch wasn’t for him, but for the executives who proposed it in the first place.  

“Genji, I really think you should reconsider. Truly.” she said to him.

“Why, Dr. Zeigler?”

“You could live a normal life. Away from the Shimada, away from all this violence that we cannot escape from. Doesn’t a fresh start have some appeal?”

Genji sympathized with her plea, and under different circumstances, he might have agreed to it. But it was too late. “I thank you for your concern. You are a kind soul, doctor. But this decision was made long before your intermediation. The Shimada should pay for their crimes, and I am the one who will see to it. It is now my duty.”

“But it doesn’t _have_ to be,” she said.

“My fate and the fate of the Shimada are bound together. That is reality.”

“You aren’t tied to _anything_ anymore, Genji. You’re free. And you can use this freedom as a chance to find peace for yourself. There can be nothing more satisfying than that, yes?”

Genji did his best to nod and said, “To some, yes. But there is a storm inside me that continues to rage. This life I was given has a purpose, and I will see it carried out.”

_But there is one that you will never know. A secret I will keep until my true death: that this heart beats to seek vengeance…and to be your shield._

There was a pregnant pause. Then Angela asked, ‘This is what you want? This decision is one that you made, not Commander Morrison or Reyes or anyone else?”

“This decision was mine and mine alone.”

Pursing her lips from indignation, Angela conceded. “Then there is nothing I can say. My goal was always to help you live the life you wanted to live, Genji. If this is what you chose, then I accept it. Even if I don’t agree with it. But if I find out that anyone has manipulated you, that you aren’t being allowed to live the life you want, then nothing will stop me from interfering. That is _my_ duty as your doctor.”

Genji smiled. Angela Zeigler’s genuineness, her love for protecting others, was so admirable that Genji knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had been the one who had coaxed him back into life; the only sound in the middle of the torturous silence.

“There is no better doctor than you, Dr. Zeigler. I am blessed to be your patient.”

Angela snickered and said, “Some may not agree with you, Genji. I can be quite the nag, I’ve heard. Some people find me unpleasant.”

Genji’s mouth twitched; his best attempt at smirk. “I supposed they are allowed to have their incorrect opinion.”

Angela grabbed Genji’s hand and, in her softest voice, said, “I look forward to working with you, Genji Shimada. Welcome to Overwatch.”

“Doctor,” Genji said, and he somehow managed to make his fingertips curve in; a sign that he would hold her hand if he could, “the pleasure is all mine.”

~*~*~

Angela shook her head from astonishment. “I cannot believe it. You heard me reading to you that whole time? Why didn’t you say anything, Genji?!”

Genji put his hands out and shrugged. “Speaking truthfully, doctor, I felt I had not earned it. My self-hatred was poisoning me. I was so fixated on ending the Shimada clan that I felt there was no room for anything else in my heart at that moment. Altruism would have been lost on me if you had not been so kind.”

Pouring herself another glass of tea, Angela said, “Had I known, I might have picked another poet than Emily Dickinson. I’m certain that got boring to you.”

“Not at all. I had never heard her poetry until that moment. It is quite beautiful. I’ve come to enjoy it as much as you have. Though my favorite will always be the one that woke me.”

Angela put her hand over her mouth and bobbed her head without meeting Genji’s eyes. A moment passed, then Genji said, “But I know your secret, Dr Zeigler.”

She curled her lips in to hide her grin; Genji wore his proudly. “You changed the bird in the poem, did you not?”

“How long have you known?” Angela asked this after both hands were cradling her teacup.

“To your surprise, I am sure, not very long. I had found a book of her poetry by chance in America. I searched for it. But what I found confused me. The line read “robin”, not “sparrow”.”

“It does,” said Angela sagely.

“So my question is this: how did you know?”

Moving to sit on her knees, Angela said, “When you were found by Jack, he said it wasn’t the state you were in that puzzled him. There was a single sparrow feather laid across your back. It was untouched by the blood, so he assumed someone had laid it there. He was probably right, but I thought maybe it was you that had kept it. So I decided that was your code name in the hospital. Whenever anyone came to me with information, we called you “Sparrow” instead of “John Doe”. And when I saw that poem, it resonated with me. It was how I felt about wanting to save you. I didn’t think you could hear, so I changed “robin” to “sparrow”.”

“And so turns the tide of fate,” Genji replied. His eyes were wild with emotion; Angela almost confessed to him there, but her will managed to hold her back. It was still too soon; the night was still too young.

Genji asked, “I can assume that one is your favorite now?”

“Oh, absolutely. I still love her poetry as a whole, though. Short, but tender.”

Genji finished the last of his tea, then said, “And through you, I feel the same.”

“Well, I suppose there are many things we learned to enjoy through each other, isn’t there?”

“While this is true as far as I am concerned, I am not aware that I had that same effect on you,” Genji said curiously.

Angela swallowed the lump in her throat. The first hurdle she would jump to reach her confession was now before her. Genji was here, after all these years, and she would be the biggest fool to pass up the opportunity before her. Angela absently traced circles into the leather of her sofa with a finger and murmured, “Well, there’s one thing, I think…”

“Oh?”

Genji and Angela’s eyes locked. She said shyly: “Dancing.”

The reaction that Genji had came in short-lived bursts: from the way his face stretched, Angela could tell that the muscles above his eyes would be moving if not for the metal casing on his forehead. That changed to a complex expression that took time to decipher, a kind of incredulous joy; his eyes moved back and forth as he retrieved the memory. Then his eyes went back on her, smoldering with passion and eagerness.

“That,” Genji said so slowly that it was physically tantalizing, “is something I am very, very glad to hear, doctor.”

She had to look away; his words had obtained the power to caress, and too much exposer would make her succumb. Instead, they relived the memory like ghosts haunting the past. The moment where their hearts finally began to seek each other. Their first dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support. I hope you like the story. I'll update again ASAP. Comment if you wanna. C=


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn had come and gone the morning Genji first heard about the mission.

It had been two years since Genji had officially been inducted into Overwatch, and slightly longer since he had been able to function with his cybernetic upgrades. Though outwardly standoffish, Genji had found to appreciate his new comrades in the organization, particularly the companionship of Angela Zeigler. She had taken the lead in Genji’s physical therapy, and it had taken no time at all before he was ready to prep for combat. What the rest of the Overwatch executives believed would have taken ten months only took six.

Yet, there was a hunger in him that he still could not satiate. It was a lust for retribution, and a longing to be useful. Genji sought refuge and peace where he could, so he had decided to try and practice his meditation in order to soothe the flames that singed his soul. Since he lived in the Overwatch barracks at HQ, seclusion was a commodity. So Genji had snuck around the cubicles of Overwatch’s human resource department and found a supply closet with a small, broken desk just big enough for him to sit on. Only five minutes had passed before the door was swung open, and Genji found himself sharing a glare with Commander Gabriel Reyes.

The stern-faced Reyes said, “What are you doing in here, Shimada?”

Genji sighed and said, “Please, Commander, it is courteous to knock first.”

The Blackwatch Commander’s brows narrowed; Genji did not think Reyes could look any grumpier, but he had found a way.

Reyes eyes darted around the small room, then he said, “You’re in _utility closet,_ Shimada.”

“You are correct, sir. And how did you know I was in here?”

“Did you not see Kern? Apparently, you can slip by assassins, but not administrative assistants.”

Genji scowled under his visor. _Curse you, Kern. Whoever you are._

Squaring his shoulders, Genji removed the visor from his face to stare directly at Reyes. He asked after a sigh, “And how may I help you, Reyes?”

Reyes didn’t bother checking behind him; he took a step inside the closet and shut the door, the light above them just bright enough for the two men to see each other’s faces. From the discretion Reyes was taking, Genji decided to sit on his knees to gain a bit of height. Having another man stare down at him made his whole body itch despite the fact the majority of his skin was now something between metal and plastic.

“We’ve tripped over some intel on Talon activity via our personal moles. Sounds like they’re planning on causing a stir during the UN’s Overwatch Gala in the USA.”

Genji nodded and said, “I see. Has Strike Commander Morrison been informed?”

Gabriel Reyes’ face puckered. It reminded Genji of the time he accidently drank sour milk as a child. “Yes,” he replied.

“And our orders are?”

“The UN bigwigs don’t want to cancel. Thinks it’ll be a sign of weakness. And since we take orders from them, we’ve got to handle it ourselves. Problem is, they don’t want too many armed forces at the party. They don’t wanna cause a commotion. The rest of us high ranking officials have to be in attendance, but since Blackwatch agents aren’t obligated, I figured I’d put my best men on the job.”

Genji crossed his arms, but not from frustration. From anticipation. “This includes me, I assume.”

Reyes cleared his throat and said, “Yes. I’m putting you and one other agent in charge of infiltrating the hotel that’s hosting the Gala while it’s going on. The rest of us are going to be there to back you up at the actual event, but I’m hoping you two can handle it yourselves. Sound like something you can do.”

Genji had to suppress a wicked grin. Meditation was a good method of seeking tranquility, but nothing felt so grand as the feeling of a sword slicing through the raw flesh of a terrorist.

“I understand. Though it seems a bit unusual to put only two men on this mission, Commander. It is out of character for you to agree so readily.”

A shrug was all that Reyes offered him. Genji’s jaw clenched in thought, but it relaxed instantly as soon as the realization hit him.

“Commander, you are arming the Overwatch representatives attending the Gala, correct?”

Through some kind of miracle, Genji Shimada managed to get Gabriel Reyes to grin. “You’re sharp, Shimada. Morrison, myself and the other attendees will be concealed carriers. It’d be stupid to send two people when we’re so unsure of what Talon’s going to throw at us. So you guys will have plenty of backup.”

“Well done, Reyes. Our strike team?”

“For the concealed carriers, that’ll be me, Morrison, Captain Amari, Lieutenant Wilhelm and Dr. Zeigler.”

Once her name was out of Reyes’ mouth, Genji’s whole body went stiff. Someone who didn’t know him might have mistaken him for a statue.

“I—Yes. That is good. Yes.”

Not wanting to explain, Genji avoided Reyes’ face when he raised a quizzical eyebrow. After a stunted silence, he seemed to give up. “…I guess explaining all this now doesn’t really matter. I’ll give you a briefing the closer it gets to the Gala. You can just get back to…whatever you’re doing.”

“Thank you for this information. I await future instruction.”

Evidently done talking, Reyes turned on his heel to exit the closet. Just before he closed the door, Genji spoke up.

“Commander. I believe you never told me the name of my partner for the Gala.”

For the second time, Genji produced a smile on Reyes’ face. However, this one was not like the other. Gabriel had first offered Genji a smile from surprised respect. His new one was made of sadistic glee. “I don’t think that’ll be hard for you to figure out.”

~*~*~

There was no moon on the night of the UN’s Overwatch Gala.

It was breezy; surprisingly cool for late May. But Genji could feel the humidity stuck in the air, heavy and thick. The comrades of Overwatch had traveled to northern America to celebrate yet another anniversary. Normally, Genji disliked such a gathering. To him, the only purpose was for the United Nations to revel with the pride that they had usurped from Overwatch’s achievements. The very thought if it repulsed him. Yet this year, Genji was looking forward to the celebration. While many others would be in full dress to appease the VIPs, he and a partner would be combing the shadows. A threat had been made, and it was his job to see that threat neutralized.

Despite his satisfaction, there was a tiny seed anxiety in the pit of what was once his stomach. Genji was quite aware of what caused his disquiet, but he had no choice but to watch it grow into an uncomely weed he could not pull. The moment it had been planted was when Genji heard from the Strike Commander and Reyes that the attendees would reside in the hotel while he and his partner would hide in a local bed and breakfast. To hide their presence, they said.  To not panic the other guests, they said. But Genji vehemently disagreed. Soldiers of Talon could easily change their plans. Could go after civilians. Or the Overwatch agents while vulnerable in their rooms.

They might go after Angela Zeigler. And if Genji wasn’t there, if something happened to her…the last bit of joy within him would shrivel and die.

Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes dismissed his worries, and they didn’t respond to his acrimonious attitude well. But Genji didn’t care. He argued with Morrison and Reyes for most of the plane ride, but he quit when he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere. So he stayed the night at the small inn, and while everyone at the five star hotel in the city had dined on Crème brûlée and caviar, he and his partner were treated to a complimentary breakfast that featured prepackaged muffins, bruised bananas and a coffee machine that seemed only to produce black sludge.

It was then that Genji swore off American food for the rest of his life, but his partner seemed more than happy to partake in what he called “comfort food”.

“Penny for yer thoughts?”

Genji blinked as the low drawl of his partner’s voice brought him out of his daydream. He turned to see McCree smiling crookedly at him, an unlit cigar in his mouth. Genji could help but find his demeanor a bit inappropriate for the mission they were currently about to undertake, but he had come to realize that was just who McCree was. Accepting it would make it easier on him.

Genji returned to his original position and said, “I was lost in thought. Forgive me.”

The two of them were standing up on the roof of a lower building that was sitting perpendicular to the hotel where the Overwatch Gala was being held. The cover of night was enough to mask their presence, but Genji felt they would be much more noticeable if McCree decided to start smoking. Regardless, Genji coaxed himself into relaxing. Reyes and Morrison said infiltration would begin when all Overwatch attendees had entered. Impatience was clawing at his throat.

The soft clink of a zippo rang in Genji’s ears. He heaved a heavy sigh.

“Is it wise to smoke?”

McCree took a drag from the cigar then said, “Mission ain’t started yet. Figure’m good till then.”

“We could attract attention.”

“Lotsa stuff could happen, Shimada. I could get shot. You could hush and let me smoke.”

Genji snorted, refusing to dignify McCree with a response. If he wanted him quiet that badly, so be it. He would be as silent as the grave.

Genji and McCree stood in silence until he saw the Overwatch limousine, which garishly displayed their logo on the hood of the vehicle, pull up to the front of the building. Lieutenant Wilhelm was the first to exit, then the driver. The two held the doors open as the rest of the team moved out. Captain Amari, then Angela Ziegler.

The entire world slowed to a crawl when Genji saw her. Her blond hair had been let down, and it moved ever so slightly in the windy weather; Genji could feel it tickling the only human pieces of him left. The dress she had on was exquisite, and that was an understatement. From his position, he could see that it clung to her frame perfectly; not too tight, yet not too loose. It was a royal blue, the same color as her bewitching eyes. A heart shaped neck line, bare shoulders, silver jewelry. Powerful urges flowed through him in time with his heartbeat. He hadn’t felt desire in so long that it took the breath from him.

“Admirin’ the view?”

Genji whipped around to look at McCree. He had moved to stand beside him, a smarmy leer brazenly visible on his face.

“I—I am waiting for the rest of our team to enter the hotel.”

McCree flicked the butt of his cigar on the ground and crushed it with his heel. “Uh-huh.”

Genji straightened his back. “We have no time to waste. Get ready.”

“Dr. Zeigler’s right purty, ain’t she?”

“…That—what does that have to do with our mission?”

“Oh, well, nothin’ at all. Is’just I can’t help but notice you get all moon-eyed over her.”

Genji bit his lip under his visor, cursing his lack of knowledge of American colloquialism. He said, “I do not follow. “Moon-eyed”? What does that mean?”

McCree winked at Genji, and it made him feel confused. “Yer lookin’ at her like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Like you’re hungry. And I reckon you haven’t _eaten_ in a while, have you?”

Genji scoffed at McCree. “Please. I would not dare disrespect Dr. Zeigler in such a way. She is a comrade and someone who I owe my life to. Crass thoughts such as that would never cross my mind.”

McCree only rolled his eyes. “That don’t mean nothin’, but deny it all you want. I know what I saw, and that’s you ogling her like she’s your high school sweetheart.”

Genji clenched his jaw and said, “I mean no offense, McCree, but you cannot see my eyes. That is a baseless accusation.”

“Shimada, I don’t need to see nothin’. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with your eyes. Soon as she walks into a room, you turn from this broody little lone wolf to a cute lil’ puppy dog, bless your heart.”

Genij’s voice was hard as he said, “…That is none of your business…”

McCree put his hands up and said, “All right, you got a fair point.”

The two stood by the edge of the short building and watched the team of covert agents walk into the building. Genji felt a pang of envy shake his body when he watched Jack Morrison offer Angela an arm, but once they were no longer in sight, he swallowed it down like bitter medicine. There was a time and place, and now was not it. He and Jesse McCree nodded once to each other, then McCree put two fingers to his ear to activate the hidden microphone the agents all wore.

“Alfa team, this’s Bravo team. We’re’n position.”

“Reyes, here. No suspicious activity. Resume.”

McCree replied, “Over and out” before he and Genji split apart. As Genji could climb and run faster due to his enhancements, McCree would cover the lower half while Genji would inspect the upper floors. With all his might, Genji ran forward and dashed towards the hotel. He hovered in the air, and took two deep breaths before he landed on the side of the hotel. Windows covered the entire thing, and Genji was thankful that his hands and feet had been coated with adhesive in prep for the infiltration.

“Sparrow, this is Peacekeeper. Position?”

Genji responded as he continued to climb: “Sparrow to Peacekeeper. Ascent is go. Status?”

“Successful entrance. These rich folks…I tell you. Porch light’s on, but no one’s home.”

McCree’s words made Genji move a little bit faster. If memory served, this hotel had over 30 floors, and it was the job of two to try and search them all. While maintaining a low profile. Surely not an easy task, but feasible for well-equipped Overwatch agents like himself and McCree.

When Genji focused back on his trek upwards, he happily noticed that the top of the building was closer than he thought it had been. Once he reached the very top window, he used the tip of his metal hand to cut a clean circle in the glass; it would act as his own personal entrance and exit. As he crawled through vacant room on his hands and knees, Genji swiftly activated the motion sensor that had been installed into his visor. There was no sign of life on the very top floor, so he began the cyclic process of inspection. He would dash through the topmost hallways of the hotel and scan for possible Talon terrorists. The blood in his veins pumped as he anticipated the scent of the kills he would make.

Because of his speed and the precision that his new mechanical upgrades offered him, the first ten floors went by faster than he had planned. The most unpopulated floors would surely contain snipers or armed grunts, but not one blip crossed his radar. It was vexing and concerning.

“Sparrow to Alfa team. Ten floors down. No hostiles detected.”

Genji could hear Jack Morrison’s frustration as he said, “Morrison to Bravo Team. Keep searching. There are too many civilians to do a quick sweep. Be thorough.”

“Peacekeeper to Alfa Team,” McCree’s cool drawl was refreshing for Genji to hear when compared to Morrison. “I’ve trailed three suspicious fellas and I’ve got nothin’. Movin’ to investigate the floors with Sparrow.”

Genji nodded albeit he knew no one could see him. While he and McCree didn’t always get along, Genji trusted him to take as much care with searching as he would. McCree’s demeanor made him the perfect undercover combatant. No one took him as seriously as they should. Not even Genji himself.

Not a soul was in the next two floors, but it was past the halfway point that Genji found trouble. He detected two bodies in a room on the 12th floor. He moved on the tips of his toes to listen to see if he could hear conversation; it only took him a moment to move away and radio his team.

“S-Sparrow to Alfa Team. Two bodies in room 1208. Noncombatants.”

“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. You sure? I’ve got no bodies on the 3rd and 4th floor.”

“They were—ah…They were…I believe the word is…copulating?”

Over the radio, Genji could hear laughter from McCree and Captain Amari. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what _she_ found funny.

“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. Yeah, you might leave them be then.”

As soon as McCree gave the okay, Genji dashed to the staircase so he could start investigating the 11th floor. On the other side, his motion detector picked up the movement of three other bodies, but these were much different than the ones that he had found before. When Genji pressed an ear to the door of room 1101, he could hear the conversation as clearly as if he had been right beside them.

“Move into position at 20:30. We’ve got three others down there already that’ll make a scene that’ll let you move in.”

“The Strike Commander will be onto us. Are you sure that’ll be good enough?”

“It _will_ if you can shoot. He can’t stop us if he’s dead, yeah?”

Genji felt what was left of his human skin start to tingle. He had hit the jackpot. Backing away from the door, Genji placed his right hand over his ear.

“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Hostiles found. Room 1101. They intend to assassinate the Strike Commander. Three agents are present at the Gala who will serve as a distraction for a sniper. Do I engage?”

Silence. Genji counted to ten then spoke again.

“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Do you copy?”

Silence. Genji took three deep breaths, then said, “Sparrow to Peacekeeper?”

Silence. Genji’s heart started beating so fast that he could no longer feel it. The door to room 1101 opened, and two tall men walked out of the room, both holding two large machine guns and wearing sinister smiles.

“Seems like Overwatch’s pets took the bait,” one said under his breath.

Though he wanted to respond, Genji couldn’t. Rage was swelling inside of his chest, and it wouldn’t be long before it exploded. He couldn’t even see the two people before his eyes. The only face perceivable was Angela’s.

In two seconds, the Talon grunts started firing their weapons. Genji wanted to laugh, but his strong desire for the deaths overrode every single one of his other emotions. In one smooth motion, Genji flicked his Ryu-Ichimonji from his sheath and spun it, deflecting most the bullets back at them.  As soon as he heard the click of the sword’s tsuba hit the sheath’s opening, the men rocked on their feet then fell in a pool of their own blood.

“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Do you copy?”

For half a minute, there was only emptiness. But, as though some angel had heard his heart’s one wish, a voice that he knew tickled the inside of his ear like the down of a feather.

“Mercy to Sparrow. We have a hostage situation.”

Tears threatened to fall from Genji’s eyes, but he put aside the blubbering relief. “Sparrow to Mercy. What is your position?”

“I’m hiding in my room on the 6th floor. Reinhardt shoved me in the elevator when it happened.”

“Are they planning to assassinate the Strike Commander?”

“I don’t know. Some of the terrorists grabbed some civilians and threatened all the Overwatch Agents to disarm. But, like I said, they decided to help me get away.”

“Any word from McCree?”

“Not that I’ve heard. He could be listening now, hiding.”

“Do not move, Dr. Zeigler. I will meet you. What is your room number?”

“610. But don’t worry about me. I’m armed.”

Genji shook his head. She might as well have asked him not to draw breath. He had two purposes in life: to destroy the Shimada, and to protect the woman who saved his soul.

“Wait for only a moment. I will be there soon.”

With speed not even Genji knew he had, he raced down the stairs until he found the entrance to the sixth floor. Once he could tell her body was the only one in the vicinity, he knocked twice on the door to room 610 and said, “I am here, Dr. Zeigler.”

“Sorry, Genji. Please prove to me it’s you.”

Genji’s brain searched for a moment, then said, “You put peppermint in your hot chocolate.”

A click rang out, and then the door cracked open. Genji hurried inside, then turned around to Angela Zeigler. Regret washed over him, as he found that she was no longer wearing the blue gown, but a fluffy white bathrobe. The second he realized, he turned 180 degrees to face the entrance.

“I—Dr. Ziegler, I—forgive me, doctor. I had no idea you were not dressed.”

There was a mix of sourness and despondency in her voice as she said, “I wish I was too. When Reinhardt pushed me into the elevator, my dress caught and ripped on the door. And I was so looking forward to dancing in that dress, too…”

Genji clenched his hands into fists. He longed to comfort her, but he knew he was not good enough. “I…am sorry, doctor.”

Angela sighed and said, “Well, there’s always next year, yes? I’m going to change in the bathroom, see if you can’t keep trying to radio McCree.”

Angela shut the bathroom door, and then Genji turned back around. Her room seemed mostly untouched, though there was what seemed to be a bag of cosmetics on the floor by the complimentary television. He was more surprised that the kitchen in the suite seemed untouched. Surely she would have had coffee. Unconsciously, Genji discovered that he was smiling to himself. Her scent, the smell of freshly-picked blackberries, had submerged the entire room. More than killing, more than meditation, it was this smell that tamed the wayward anger inside his head. Breaking his own rule, Genji allowed himself to take it in; to become like the rhythmic tide, like the stillness of night, like he was human again.

But McCree’s words slithered up like a poisonous snake. He was hungry for her. Genji knew it regardless of his original renunciation. And Genji would not allow himself to regress; he would not be the libertine, the outcast, the disappointment. Never again. He would dedicate himself to revenge, to redeeming himself through Overwatch’s philanthropy, through defending the life that had given him a second chance. Feeling anything more would unnecessary and a burden.

“Genji?”

He looked up and saw that Angela had changed into the outfit she wore as a first-responder. Having her hair tied up made Genji feel safe, as it was so familiar. With a perplexed frown, Angela waved a hand in front of his face, and Genji’s vision refocused.

“Sparrow to Peacekeeper,” Genji said after slapping his hand over his ear. The force jostled him a bit.

Genji and Angela faced one another as they waited for any signs of McCree. Just when they had lost all hope, a static crackled through their microphones.

“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. M’hidin’ behind one of the side exits near the ballroom. Lotsa Talon agents in there with some hostages.”

“Mercy to Peacekeeper. I escaped the ballroom. There should be at least ten of them. I’m not sure what they are after.”

“Sparrow to Peacekeeper. I am with Mercy. I overheard two Talon agents say they plan on assassinating the Strike Commander, but it seems I was deceived.”

“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. What’s your position?”

“We’re in my room, 610, Jesse. Rendezvous at our position.”

McCree cleared his throat and asked, “Both of ya?”

Genji muttered under his breath, “Yes.”

There was a long pause before McCree said, “Should I give you two a minute alone?”

Angela giggled, but Genji growled, “ _Meet at our position, McCree_.”

“All right, all right. You ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

Angela and Genji sat in silence as they waited for McCree to show up. About ten minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. After one of Angela’s tests to authenticate his identity, McCree strolled into the hotel room with a grim sneer on his face. Genji found that he appreciated an appropriate reaction from his partner, though it was apparent to him that McCree’s sour face did not help Angela’s mood.

“I was eavesdropping and I think I heard that they’re threatenin’ all the Overwatch agents to surrender to them or they’re gonna kill the hostages. Some of’em are women, too, I heard one of’em scream.”

Angela but down on her finger. Genji just sighed.

“We need a plan,” Angela said softly.

“We must be tactful,” said Genji, “or they will start killing.”

McCree pulled his hat off to wipe his brow with a handkerchief. He then said, “Well if I know Reyes and Morrison, they’re stallin’ as much’s they can. But we can’t just go chargin’ in there.”

“We need to distract them somehow,” Genji replied.

All three Overwatch officers sat beside each other on the plush blue couch in Angela’s suite. Each one racked their brain for a clue. Genji could only think of the windows that he had seen while ascending the building; were there even windows in the ballroom? And they would have to find a way in there unseen. If he managed to crawl on the surface of the ceiling, he could drop down behind them for a surprise attack. But there were at least ten terrorists in the room; he would be outnumbered. Would it be enough time for Reyes and the rest of the Overwatch executives to save—

“A fire!”

Angela’s shout made both Genji and McCree jerk.

McCree pulled a cigar and his zippo from a hidden pocket in his shirt and said, “Come again, Angie?”

“We can start a fire. That can distract Talon long enough for us to route them.”

Genji liked the sound of the plan, but it seemed a bit hollow. He asked, “How would this work?”

With a prideful smirk, Angela pointed up to the strange red protrusion on the roof over her bed. “Fire alarms. If there’s a fire, they’ll go off and trigger the sprinklers, which means…”

Though no one could see it, the realization made Genji’s eyes as wide as dinner plates. If the fire alarm could trigger a reaction, Talon’s hold over the hostages could loosen due to the possibility of a fire. Especially one that could cause the whole building to fall. Her plan was not foolproof, but it was the best shot they had at saving everyone.

McCree lit his cigar and chuckled, “Brilliant as always, Miss Angie. I think that’ll buy me and Shimada some time to sneak in and get t’work.”

To show he agreed, Genji offered Angela a slight bow and said, “Thank you for your help, doctor.”

“Question is,” said McCree, “how are we gonna trigger the fire alarms?”

Angela extended an open palm out to McCree and said, “Give me your lighter. I’ll figure that out. You and Genji should go down to the ballroom and wait for the alarm.”

“It is unwise for any of us to be alone, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji said. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as the fear of harm coming upon her gripped his heart.

“This needs to be done simultaneously,” Angela’s eyes steeled before him. “We can’t risk those lives. I’ve got a gun, and I know how to hide.”

Genji’s voice grew cold as he said, “We do not know if there are any other agents searching the building. A surprise attack could be around the corner. I do not think any of us are prepared. There is safety in numbers.”

McCree exhaled cigar smoke and said, “Miss Angie’s right, Shimada. If she’s fast, this’ll be easy.”

But Genji could not agree. There wasn’t a person alive who could change his mind when it came to the safety of Angela Zeigler. Once his two partners could tell he would not budge, they created a compromise. Because of his swift feet, Genji would stay with Angela just long enough for her to start the fire. Once it was lit, he would rush back to the ballroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McCree stifling a laugh (which, to Genji, was a subtle “I told you so”), but Genji forced himself to turn a blind eye to it. Angela’s welfare, as well as the welfare of everyone in the ballroom, mattered so much more than McCree’s banal interpretations of his actions.

The three of them surveyed the hallway (Genji with the motion detector on his visor), and McCree walked to the stairwell once they could tell there were no Talon operatives. Genji and Angela set to work lighting the remains of Angela’s torn formal dress underneath the smoke detector.

Strangely, he found Angela flicking the zippo open to let the flames lick the lace and silk to be a pleasing sight. Briefly, he projected his own wishes onto the fabric; he saw the faces of Shimada criminals, of his past and of his brother in the fire. It reaffirmed that their destruction would be the moment he could truly begin again.

“You really should have gone with McCree, Genji,” Angela said, her voice as heated as the burning dress.

“McCree will be fine.”

Angela’s glare could have melted him if it were real. “And I wouldn’t be? Do you really think the only thing I’m capable of is being a doctor?”

Genji’s whole frame slumped. She had misunderstood; she believed he doubted her. “Dr. Zeigler, I—“

“I’m a first responder for a reason, you know. There was a reason Reyes chose me for this mission! I’m just as capable on the battlefield as I am in a hospital.”

“I have made a grave error, I humbly ask for your forgiveness, doctor,” Genji said, then abruptly bowed.

Angela huffed, then replied, “Then go after McCree. I’m fine here.”

“I will not.”

“Then you don’t believe in me at all! Your “apology” means absolutely nothing.”

“Still you misunderstand me, doctor. I—“

“No, Genji, I think I read you loud and clear. Let’s just hurry up and end this. I already had to burn the dress I was excited to wear. I won’t get to dance, and I can’t even go on a mission without you wanting to babysit me.”

Genji bit down on his tongue to curb his temper. “Dr. Zeigler, I am not here with you because I think you are incompetent.”   
Angela folded her arms over her chest and kept her gaze on the fire. “Sure, Genji. Sure. Thank you for your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yet, that is exactly the reason why I cannot leave.”

Angela laughed without humor, then muttered, “Ah, I see. Well, I must seem quite the delicate flower to you. What a nice senti—“

With more force then he had ever directed at her, Genji snapped, “I am here because if anything happened to you, it would destroy me.”

At a snail’s pace, she turned her face back to him, a mix of curiosity and astonishment on her face.

Genji continued: “If you were killed, or hurt….and I could have prevented it, but did not…I would never…ever…be able to live with myself. Living is already a trial enough, but with the weight of your death on my hands…the person who I wished to protect the most…I fear for what would happen to me. I am already consumed by so much darkness…”

Genji felt a crippling embarrassment as he realized the implications of his confession. He wanted so badly to look away from her face, but no matter how hard he tried, Genji could not move an inch. Her eyes darted around as she searched for her words, and the hint of a blush pinkened her cheeks.

“…Genji…” she murmured, but it was cut off by the piercing trill of the fire alarm.

The sound was enough to refresh Genji’s mind; the sound had been the gunshot that signaled the race, and his feet ran to trail McCree. Angela’s reaction, the consequences of what he said, were all shoved to the back of his mind as he endeavored to beat the sprinklers to the ballroom. But as he ran, he found that his right hand sought his still human heart. Genji could feel its beating, the blood that continued to pump through the skin he had. It had been years since this sensation had hit him, but he allowed it to caper through his system the same as he had through the shadowy hallways of the hotel.

For the first time since his reconstruction, Genji had felt truly human.

~*~*~

McCree and Genji had met up at one of the side entrances of the ballroom. Genji had just finished running when the sprinklers had begun to rain down upon the attendants and Talon agents. McCree and Genji looked at each other and nodded once before they stormed in. Many people screamed, and amid the chaos, a gunshot rang out. Genji had leapt towards the ceiling, and was intrigued by the fact that McCree had been able to shoot one of the terrorists right between the eyes. The woman who he had been holding ran into the arms of what Genji assumed was her wife, and he decided McCree’s first bullet was the signal for him to pounce.

Like a lithe panther, he bounded towards a Talon and let his sword dig deep into the skin. The wet sound of the blade cutting through muscle was a better high than any drug could have given him. After the clean cut, he stopped and found that Captain Amari had shot a poor bastard twice in the knees, and Reyes had, shockingly, held a small girl in his arms. The smile on Gabriel’s face as he handed her back to a couple was something Genji swore that he would take to his grave.

Evacuation of the civilians was handled by himself and Captain Amari, while McCree and Reyes gave a report on all the events to the FBI representatives that had arrived at the scene. The terrorist that were not killed were apprehended by Jack Morrison and Lieutenant Wilhelm, but most of them did not make it out of the hotel; they had taken cyanide pills to avoid capture. What a waste, Genji had thought. If death was what they had wanted, putting up a fight in the first place was pointless.

News crews had set up camp on the red carpet. Surely this event would be televised across the world, but it spelled more acclaim for Overwatch, so Genji found it to be irritatingly useful. But he had no desire to stand in front of cameras; the more secret his identity, the easier it would be for him to catch the Shimada unaware. Jack Morrison, like always, dealt with the press and their slew of questions. Overwatch operatives got the jump on Talon before anyone was killed, he said. Barring a few injuries, everything had been resolved in the best way possible.

Once the ruckus had died down, Genji and McCree received a mountain of kudos from their fellow Overwatchers as they sat together outside the hotel. Reyes particularly praised Genji, but ignored McCree.

“I was simply doing my duty,” Genji said, waving a dismissive hand.

“That’s all well an’ good,” said McCree, “but does this mean us heroes get a bit of shore leave?”

“You can have shore leave when you stop asking for it,” Reyes said with a tart tone.

Instead, Reinhardt threw an arm around McCree and cried, “Let us drink and be merry. This is a victory for good, and should be treated as one. Come, I will treat us all!” 

McCree tipped a hat towards that offer, then pulled out a zippo and lit a cigar. When Genji saw it, Angela’s blushing face bloomed at the forefront of his mind, and he immediately made his way back towards the ballroom. He heard Ana Amari and Morrison call after him, but he did not stop.

When Genji walked through the large threshold to the ballroom, he found that his assumption had been on the mark. Standing in the middle of the carnage was Angela Zeigler, the dim light of the wall lamps giving her yellow hair an orange glint. Melancholy had shaped her lips into a small pout, and Genji fought with his initial reaction to it. It was endearing, but the thought of her sadness made him want to fix it.

“Doctor,” he said, his voice echoing in the emptiness.   
Instantly, she looked up at him. Realizing his presence, she masked the gloom with a wink.

“Figured I’d at least spend a little more time here since I had to put out the dress.”

Genji asked, “Are you unharmed?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I put the fire out, too. I need to give Jesse his lighter back. I'm tempted to keep it, though. To keep him from smoking.“

“Do not bother. I have seen him with a spare.“

“Well...there goes my plan.“

A silence hung in the ballroom air, but Angela was the first to break it. 

“Also, Genji…I’m sorry that I got angry with you.”

“Think nothing of it. You were justified. I did not explain my reasoning. It is natural to feel offended in such a situation.”

Angela rubbed her arms as though she felt a chill and said, “That’s not a very good excuse for my actions though. It seems I’ve just made too many mistakes tonight.”

Genji, slowly, made his way towards her. “The idea you had worked perfectly, doctor. Truly, you are gifted. Had it not been for you, many people would have lost their lives today. When I return to the Strike Commander, I will make sure he knows you were the architect of this plan.”

Offering him a shrug, she said, “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve never liked all that attention. It’s just an excuse to do more things like this…”

Angela looked at her feet and then back up. With a sad smile, she said, “This is the first time I’ve actually been to one of these, you know. I was excited; I’ve always wanted to go to a ball ever since I was a girl. I had that dress fitted three times before today. Seems like it was just a waste…”

Like watching a film, Genji recalled the pain on Angela’s face when she explained that her dress had been shredded, that she had wanted to dance so badly. There was not much that he could do. Her beautiful dress had been sacrificed to save everyone, and replacing it would be an otiose gesture.

But still, Genji straightened his back. Her dress was a lost cause, but one thing was not.

“…Well, Dr. Zeigler. We are here together in this ballroom. There is no music, and it certainly has been disheveled.”

Angela snorted then said, “More like demolished.”

“And yet, I find myself in a certain mood.”

With the grace of a prince, Genji bowed before Angela Zeigler and offered a hand to her.

“Would you dance with me?”

She did not answer him right away. He allowed her to absorb his request. Her hand reached out to him, hesitated, but then held it tightly.

Broken-voiced, she said, “I was…hoping you might ask me…”

Once he knew she had agreed, he pulled her close to him. The hand that did not cup hers was rested against the small of her back, and hers was placed against his chest. If Genji was being truthful, dancing was not his favorite thing. Skill and desire both kept him from pursing it, but his physical training made it a bit easier for him to do. He moved her in a makeshift waltz; they carved out a circle on the marble floor, but neither of them tripped over the other this way. When he was comfortable enough, he playfully spun her a bit, which was a decision he was glad he made; Angela’s bashful face was the best reward he could have gotten from today.

As they swayed, Genji let his imagination shape the atmosphere. Angela had been reunited with her stunning blue dress; the room was bright and the music was chic and jovial. He wore a stylish tuxedo, and all eyes in the room gravitated to the attractive man and gorgeous woman. She was like a princess, and he the suitor. They were the envy of the UN, of Overwatch, of the world. He was handsome and human. Genji would lean in to kiss her, and she would meet him.

To kiss her.

Genji’s feet stopped, and so did Angela’s.

“Genji, are you all right?”

The image of his lips on hers, of her mouth tasting like the blackberries she always smelled like; it was the rush he had been craving. More so than the feel of killing, than the speed he could achieve, then even the idea of his revenge. The impression of Angela Zeigler’s lips roused a beast within him. He thought of McCree, of this hunger he had accused Genji of having, and it was the idea of kissing Angela that brought McCree’s prediction true. The feeling thrilled and frightened him.

He smiled and said, “I am just fine, doctor. Thank you for allowing me to dance with you.”

Both seemed disgruntled as Genji pulled away, but they kept their positivity on the surface.

“No, Genji, I should be the one thanking you. You made this night…so much better.”

Genji gave Angela’s hand one last squeeze before he released it. “As have you.”

The air between them grew awkward. Genji could not do anything but smile and laugh, but Angela seemed fidgety. Obviously overwhelmed, she stumbled back towards the front of the hotel, saying “Well, it’s probably time for me to get to bed, right? No days of for me, of course.”

Tenderly, Genji said, “Of course, doctor. Rest well.”

After a slight wave, Angela turned her back to him and began to leave. But Genji could not feel sad as he watched her go. Clinging to the sensation of her body in his arms, he memorized every curve. In the reverie of their dance, Genji had unearthed a secret that he would treasure forever; something that he knew he should not feel, but felt in spite of how taboo it was. And once he took that first step forward, he knew he would never be able to go back.

Genji was, fervently and unduly, in love with Angela Zeigler.

~*~*~

“I’ve always thought you were a good dancer,” Angela said as she brought another hot cup of tea to her face. She hoped the steam would be a good excuse for her red face.

“It will surprise you to hear, then, that I have rarely ever danced in my life,” Genji said then rested his elbows on his knees and held his own hands.

“Not much surprises me anymore, to be frank.”

“Truly?”

Angela shrugged, then sipped her tea. She said, “When you are as old as me, when you’ve traveled so much, it just happens. Nihil Admirari.”

“…Nihil…I am sorry, doctor. I am not familiar with this phrase.”

“It’s Latin. “Let nothing surprise you”. I think some famous philosopher invented it. Again, it’s something only old women like me bother with.”

“Old? Far from it, doctor. You are radiant.”

Quietly, Angela responded, “Now you’re teasing me.”

Genji squared his shoulders, and it made Angela straighten up as well. She knew what that meant; that Genji was about to take a very big risk.

“…Would it surprise you to know, then, doctor…that it was at that moment when I knew how I felt about you?”

There was a part of her that wanted to run because of the fear that the word “felt” that churned her stomach. But Angela knew that if she and Genji were going to progress, to reshape their relationship, she had to summon her courage. Recoiling meant doom. This was the second step, the second move on the chessboard, and the turn had passed to her.  

Setting her teacup onto the table between them, she mumbled, “That’s…more surprising than I thought.”

Genji nodded, his eyes never wavering. “I suspect so. That moment is what started me on the path to my salvation.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit yet again, Genji.”

“Certainly not. I would not be the man I am now if not for you.”

Angela rested her chin on her hand and asked, “And why that particular moment?”

Genji’s eyes were looking out of a window when he said, “I thought of loving you, and it seemed natural. Right. It was that moment that I wanted to believe we were bound by a thread of fate.”

A thread of fate. That phrase galvanized a memory that had been buried a long time ago. She couldn’t help but smirk when she realized that it was exactly what she needed. Genji had recounted the memory of the moment he fell for her, but Angela had not thought to do the same. Perfection.

“Ah, but don’t forget Genji,” she said while wagging a finger, “that it was me who cut our red thread of fate a long time ago.”

It didn’t take long for him to catch on. They had a thread of fate that bound them to another memory. One of snow, of tears, of regret. One where luck had helped them both to cheat death itself. The moment where their love had become mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. :c I rewrote this a couple times. I didn't like it until now. Also, thanks for the comments. I will try to make my story better. I hope you continue to read it. c=


	4. Chapter Four

Dr. Angela Zeigler did not dislike wintry weather, but the cold of Siberia was enough to make her never want to see snow again.

More than a year had passed since the night of the Overwatch Gala. Angela had hoped that the situations within Overwatch would improve, but sadly she was mistaken. The UN had started turning its back on one of their most beloved creations, and the media was rife with scandals involving their covert operations division, Blackwatch. She was not directly involved with Blackwatch, yet from what she had heard from Jesse and Genji, the darkest corners of Overwatch were about to be exposed. Fury and disappointment had made Angela retreat from it all; she didn’t want to believe the cause she had joined could do such horrible things. Doing good was what she dedicated her life to; what she had surrendered everything to. To discover that the organization she had trusted so stridently had betrayed her would certainly break what spirit she had left.

She shuddered from both fear and the chill. She had only just exited the helicopter in to the snow-covered wasteland, and already she wanted to turn around and go home. The thought of returning to a fleece blanket and hot peppermint cocoa made he walk briskly towards the massive, domed structure in the distance.

Turning back once to look at the stationary helicopter that had dropped her off, Angela waved. Then a voice rang in her ear.

“Amari to Mercy. The faster you walk, the faster we can find some place warm, doctor.”

Dr. Zeigler huffed and did not respond to Ana Amari. Having the captain hear her teeth knocking together as she tried to talk would be far too embarrassing. But she quickened her pace all the same. Upon reaching the halfway point, she met with two armed guards who were to act as her escort. As she began to walk with them, another voice entered her ear. But this time, it was a voice, smooth as silk, that brought a smile to her icy face.

“Sparrow to Mercy. We have your position. Please report if you encounter danger, Dr. Zeigler.”

Angela began to giggle, then hid it by pretending to cough. When Reyes briefed her about this mission a week ago, he said an agent would be acting as backup in case of an emergency; she knew immediately who would end up volunteering. It had taken her a while to understand, but she finally began to appreciate Genji Shimada’s protective side. Certainly, it came from the debt he felt towards his rescue in the hospital. Frequently, she had tried to remind him it was Jack Morrison who had pulled Genji’s body out from the mire; even so, he still felt that he owed more to her than any other. Every way she looked at it, it didn’t make sense. Regardless, she accepted that part of Genji. His kindness had brought them together, and she now had no closer friend in Overwatch than he.

Yet, there were times when Angela found herself thinking back to the night of the Gala, Genji offering his hand to her in the derelict ballroom, and her body would hum with heat. The moment had struck her so that it was now appearing in her dreams. She could not stand near him without feeling electrified. That fever made her coquettishly shy, and Angela admitted only to herself that she enjoyed it. Something was budding in the deepest chamber of her heart, and she wasn’t sure if she should pull the roots or let it grow.

Nevertheless, she had put all her recent tumults aside to focus on the job she had been given. Before Angela had left, Captain Amari, Genji and herself had created code phrases that she could communicate to them without being noticed. Per Genji’s suggestion, most of them were in Japanese, as she felt the Russian doctors and scientists would likely not have studied the language. Under her breath, Mercy mumbled, “white snow” in Genji’s native tongue.

There was a chuckle on the other end. “Your pronunciation is improving, doctor.”

Angela rolled her eyes, wishing Genji could see her face.

The snowfall lightened a bit when Angela and her escorts reached the front of the Siberian medical outpost. There to greet her by the large doors were the two doctors she had spoken to on video chat those two months ago. Dr. Sokolov was a tall, thin man with a bald head and a sharp face. His second-in-command, Dr. Ricci, was not Russian, but Italian-American. She had long, dark hair braided behind her and beautifully tanned skin. The pair were smiling as Dr. Zeigler bowed to them.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov cheered, and shook her hand so fervently that she felt he’d rip her arm off. “I must say, you are even more radiant than I originally thought you.”

“You are too kind, Dr. Sokolov. I’m also so glad to finally meet face to face,” Angela replied, though her teeth clicked together once her mouth was no longer warm from her breath.

“Please come in, doctor, and get out of this cold,” Ricci said, though she kept her face cast downward. Dr. Ricci was a timid person, per Sokolov, so Angela gave her thanks and followed the two into the facility.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Angela said, and she had to stop herself from sprinting to find heat.

The interior of the medical research lab wasn’t anything incredibly spectacular by Angela’s standards. In truth, it looked more like a hospital than a laboratory. White tiled floors, the widows above were the class of the dome overhead, but there were many clear glass doors around the main foyer with names inscribed on them. The offices of the lead doctors, she imagined. At the end of the room was a desk that was cut in a half circle and connected to the walls. Two large thresholds with doors that bore not names, but the phrase “Research Personnel Only” in bold, red letters. Sokolov locked eyes with the young, spectacled man who acted as the receptionist, and the two shared a nod before Sokolov held the door open for the two ladies.

As the three walked down the narrow hallway, Dr. Ricci’s voice floated up to Angela’s ears.

“I-I’ve been reading your thesis on synthetic muscleclature, Dr. Zeigler. I was stunned that it was written by someone so young. I-It’s very inspiring work, truly it is.”

“I’m flattered, Dr. Ricci. Though, I must admit, most of that thesis is probably no longer applicable. I confess that most of my time has spent less in research and more in practice.”

Pushing her lips side to side, Dr. Ricci replied, “Oh, y-yes, well, I’m certain Overwatch medics are very busy with hands on medicine, I was just hoping to, well, pick your brain about what new discoveries might be on the horizon for our practice, naturally, of course, Dr. Zeigler.”

Just as Angela was about to answer Ricci, Sokolov’s deep laughter broke apart their conversation. “Forgive my second, Dr. Zeigler. She is, how you say, enamored with you? I have heard nothing but your name from her these last weeks.”

“How precious,” Captain Amari purred. “Seems like our Mercy has fans across this globe.”

Genji’s reply was terse: “Yes, it seems this is true.”

Subtle pinkness flushed Ricci’s face, but Angela waved away Sokolov’s teasing.

“Frankly, Dr. Ricci, it’s me whose impressed with the work of the doctors here. If you have figured out instantaneous body cell repair, you could have theoretically just covered the serum for immortality.”

Over her hidden communicator, Angela heard a hushed exclamation from Captain Amari.

Dr. Ricci squeaked, “Ah, no, um, I, Dr. Zeig—“

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov said with a smirk. “Perhaps not the key to stopping death, but aging yes. I’m excited to show you!”

After the long hallway was cleared, Angela and the other doctors came into a large, painfully white room. There were many tables bound to the floor with tablets and various medical equipment scattered on them. Six other doctors were in the room gathered around one table, and they were chatting amongst themselves, though Angela could not pick up the topic of their conversation. When they noticed Dr. Sokolov, they stopped on a dime and rushed to great the three of them. Angela struggled with remembering all their names, but there were four women and two men. The two males were from Japan, but there were two Russian women, a woman from Brazil and one from France. The diversity in the room made Angela’s chest swell from pride. Nothing was more satisfying then seeing the people of the world coming together for the sake of saving lives.

“Dr. Zeigler, if you would remain here. Dr. Ricci is going to take the other doctors to the lab next door to help prep the serum,” said Dr. Sokolov, who handed a card key over to Ricci. “I would like to stay here and talk about having the patients at the Overwatch hospital as the first trial subjects for the medicine, yes?”

“Yes, of course,” Angela said. She pulled a chair from the desk the other doctors had been using.

Dr. Ricci shuffled the other doctors out of the room so hurriedly that Angela found it bizarre. Nevertheless, she couldn’t do or say anything about it. Rousing suspicion would be dangerous. There was a theory formulated by Jack and Reyes that Sokolov had contacted Overwatch HQ in order to make a profit off of his invention; they had never had contact with this outpost previously, and it would make sense for people like Sokolov to be seeking distinction in the medical circle, as no one had heard of his name. But it was Angela’s personal hypothesis that Sokolov had filched the credit of the breakthrough in cellular repair from the young Dr. Ricci. Influence was easy for the head of a facility and a veteran practitioner, and Ricci was far too reticent to fight back. So, Angela had made it her mission to discover what secret seemed to be looming in this oasis in the snow.

Sokolov took a seat across the table from her. He had a smile that showed all his teeth, unlike before. It was fake, yet terrifying.

“So, Dr. Zeigler. Before we start talking business, I’d like to know more about you.”

Angela crossed her legs and asked, “About me?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Somewhat. I usually don’t find colleagues wanting to talk about their personal lives instead of medicine.”

“As you can probably tell, I enjoy knowing more than just the name of the people that I work with. Forgive me if this is unfamiliar. I’ll be blunt; I’ve followed your work often, like Dr. Ricci. You are certainly a doctor that I have aspired to be like, Dr. Zeigler.”

Angela had wanted to take off her coat, but with every word Sokolov spoke, she found herself less and less inclined.

“It’s humbling to hear, Dr. Sokolov, that I have enthused so many people. I have a lot to live up to, surely.”

Sokolov gave her a low chuckle, then touched his bearded chin with his left thumb and forefinger. “I would not use “enthused”, doctor. It is more like…“smitten”, I believe.”

Blinking once, Angela said, “Smitten? That’s a strong word, Dr. Sokolov.”

Sokolov just nodded, he reached over and took one of Angela’s hands in his, then placed the other on top of it. “Yet it is true. Dr. Zeigler, I know this is unprofessional. But, with you being here…I cannot find my own decorum. I must do this.”  
“Please, we—“

“I’m thoroughly taken with you Dr. Zeigler. You’re beauty is unparalleled, but more so, your work has moved me. You are like…my guardian angel.”

Angela was about to interject, but she heard a strong snap over the microphone. Like the breaking of a bone. Her heart jumped to her throat, but it slowed when Ana Amari’s stifled laughter filled the silence.

“Seems like Shimada’s not handling this conversation very well, Mercy. I’d put an end to this nonsense.”

Angela took a deep breath and as she focused back on Sokolov. His eyes were narrowed with confusion, so she demurely looked away and bit her lip.

“Ah-I…forgive me, Dr. Sokolov, I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Oh, I am certain you have not,” Sokolov said, running a finger down her throat. Angela had to bite down so hard on her tongue to keep from slapping his face.

“Which is why…I’m going to make you an offer, Angela.”

Angela clenched her jaw and asked, “What offer?”

Dr. Sokolov leaned away from Angela to sit correctly in his chair. Then from underneath it, he slowly revealed a gleaming, silver handgun.

“If you don’t want me to kill you, you’ll do as I say.”

From over the microphone, a loud rattling went off in her ear, and Angela winced from the pain. She heard Captain Amari scream, “Hold, Shimada!” before more static clogged the communication.

“First thing’s first,” Sokolov said, spinning the gun in his hand, “take out that bug. This is a private conversation, my pet.”

Angela forced herself to stare, unblinking, at Sokolov. She had suspected a plot, but not one that involved weapons. Chagrin made her neck hot; she should have listened to Reyes and brought something to defend herself, but she was so certain it was something more banal that she let herself get lax. If she died today, it would be due to her own hubris.

With shaking hands, Angela pulled the small, clear communicator from her ear and placed it in front of her on the table. Sokolov plucked it like a flower and then crushed it under his heal like a bug. Once she knew Sokolov was distracted, Angela reached to the back of her shirt and touched the plastic bug that Ana had clipped to her shirt. A back-up plan; one that only wired her directly to whoever had the other spare. She placed the wire to it in the opposite ear and hid it all with her own hair. Genji Shimada’s face hung in the forefront of her mind. It was very likely that he was the one that had it. He had come for her protection; perhaps if he could sneak into the facility, she might not have to die. The fact that she was forced to rely on someone else to protect her made her stomach roll, but that would not stop her from trying to fight her own way out.

“Now we are truly alone,” Sokolov said with a contented sigh, and Angela felt the hands of fear, colder than Siberian snow, freeze her in her chair.

“What do you want, Sokolov?”

“Why, Dr. Zeigler. I believe I have said it already, yes? It’s you who I am after.”

Disgust from his perversion made Angela want to vomit, but she kept the burning bile at bay with her own determination.

“All that maudlin foolishness before? I don’t buy it. What’s your game?”

Sokolov laughed, loudly and clearly. “You are something indeed, Angela Zeigler! The more I hear you, the more I want you.”

Sokolov meandered over to her, his hands gently fumbling with her hair. Instinct made her jerk away from him, but Sokolov didn’t take that well at all. Rage darkened his eyes, and he seized her forcefully by the jaw.

“Let me tell you a secret, Angela Zeigler. I would like you to live. I’d like to avoid doing what I should do. But that’s if you’re a good girl. Can you be a good girl for me.”

Angela said nothing, only imagined herself biting the foul hand that touched her skin. Flashes of her nightmarish past resurfaced; the two people who she had once called “foster parents”, the pain from the bruises, the screaming, the starvation. It was not the first time she had been grabbed like this, but she had hoped it would have been the last. To keep herself from crying, she forced herself to think about another hand that would not hurt her so. But who would? The parents who she had wanted were ghosts even in her memories. There were no hands to hold her in comfort.

A whisper flitted into her ear. “Sparrow to Mercy. I cannot hear what this Sokolov is saying, but I can hear you, doctor. Please, hold on!”

Genji’s voice reignited a flame within her. He was there, Overwatch was there. They were her home, her reason to not give up. She could not let someone so repulsive break her spirit. She had helped save his life, but he was the one that had fought to live. Genji was not the person who would rescue her, but the person who would let her rescue herself. After she shut her eyes tightly, Angela could return Sokolov’s fierce gaze yet again.

“You’re supposed to kill me, then? Whose pocket are you in?”

Sokolov tossed Angela’s face, then pressed the muzzle of the pistol into the softness of her cheek. “I’m feeling generous today, my pet, so before you die, I’ll give you a hint. My research? This lab? Not medical. My benefactors? Not government. Can you guess?”

He removed the gun, then Angela smirked and said, “Well, I think that means this was a trap from the start. And there’s only one group who wants to trap Overwatch agents. You are a Talon lackey, correct?”

“I don’t like being anyone’s lackey, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov snarled.

“Feel how you like. You’re still a scientist whose been bought by terrorists. If you’re going to kill me and collect your reward, go ahead and finish it. My death won’t stop Overwatch.”

Angela heard Genji swear in Japanese, then say, “The outside guard has been defeated, but they have shut down the facility from the inside. I will find a way in. Keep him talking, Mercy. I will not let any harm come to you!”

“I’m sure you would like that, Angela Zeigler, but my comment about killing you was meant to lament the mercy it would bring you. I’m afraid Talon has more...interesting plans than you think. And for that, they need you alive.”

Angela’s eyes widened at his words. “What…are you talking about?”

Slithering back up to her, he caressed the side of her face with the back of his fingers, amusement twisting his face into an impish leer.  “Oh, I am sure you’d love to know, my pet. I’m feeling generous again, so I’ll give you one more hint. Talon can change people, as you can tell. They’ve changed me from a mere man into a force to be reckoned with. But I think they’re planning to change you, too. A bit more hands on, though.”

Angela’s eyes darted from Sokolov to the table in front of her as her mind tried to wrap around what the fraudulent doctor was implying. Mind altering experimentation was the only conclusion she could draw, and the thought of it labored her breathing.

“Mmmhmm, though I might request that they add in some…personal suggestions, yes, doctor?”

“You’re sick,” Angela said softly. “I hope you don’t sexually harass all of the women here like this.”

That phrase must have triggered something in Genji; his shouting was painful in her ear, and the Japanese was so fast that she could not even hope to comprehend what it was he was saying.

Sokolov tucked the muzzle under her chin, then brought his face so close to Angela’s that she could smell his stale breath. “Do you want to know what I think, Dr. Zeigler? It’s time that you—“

A gunshot rang out, and Angela shut her eyes as she waited to feel the bullet pierce her skull, but she felt the muzzle pull from underneath her chin, not pain. There was an anguished scream, Angela opened her eyes just in time to see Solokov slump to the floor, blood pooling from his shoulder onto the floor. Whipping her head around, she saw a trembling Dr. Ricci standing with a gaping face and a gun gripped so tightly in her hand that it had paled her tanned knuckles.

“Oh, my God,” Ricci cried, but Angela flew from her seat and snatched the gun that Sokolov had been holding.

“Mercy to Sparrow! Sokolov’s been shot, I’ve got his gun. Give me your position so we can rendezvous.”

The joy was flagrant in Genji’s voice as he said, “Sparrow to Mercy. Who shot Sokolov? Are there any more hostiles in the area?”

“Drop. The. Gun,” Angela said firmly, yet cautiously to the unhinged Dr. Ricci. Her eyes had become wide and glassy, and her hands shook violently as she kept the nose of the gun pointed at the bleeding Russian terrorist on the floor.

“Where are you, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji’s voice came in sharply.

“I shot him,” Dr. Ricci whispered, but she didn’t sound regretful. More like baffled.

“Put the gun down,” Angela said more harshly, and she turned the one in her hand from Sokolov to Ricci. Pangs of shame and guilt made her throat burn, but if she was going to save anyone, she had to do what was necessary. Solving issues without violence was her preferred method, but Angela was not guileless. And she certainly had no desire to die today.

At the sight of the weapon, there was a fast and severe shift in Ricci’s demeanor. Tears started pouring from her eyes, and her knees gave out from underneath her. The gun dropped on the floor with a smack, and Angela kicked it under a table, where Sokolov and Ricci could not reach it.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Angela said, and she dropped the muzzle of the gun to the floor.

“Sparrow to Mercy. Please update your situation, doctor,” Genji wasn’t requesting, he was begging.

Angela sighed and said, “Mercy to Sparrow. I’m sorry, I was trying to calm down Dr. Ricci. She shot Sokolov. I’m not sure why. Keep listening, okay?”

“You bitch,” gurgled Sokolov on the floor. “You’re still bugged.”

Glowering, Angela spat, “And if you’ve any sense, you’ll keep quiet. There are two women in this room who aren’t afraid to shoot you. Think about that.”

While Angela crouched down to sit beside Dr. Ricci, she heard more of Genji mumbling in Japanese. She smiled out of habit; his native language brought her comfort, and it was far more pleasing on the ears then her German.

“Dr. Ricci, what’s happening. Tell me. Why is Sokolov working for Talon?”

Ricci didn’t answer right away. Her moon-like eyes were drilling holes into the tiled floor, and her hyperventilating was so intense that Angela was afraid that she would swoon from lack of oxygen. Gradually, Dr. Zeigler placed a tender hand on her back, and she talked as gently as she could to coax her fellow doctor.

“If we’re going to stop this man, we need to work together. Tell me what’s happened, and how I can fix it.”

Ricci looked up to Angela; she was crying without noise, but she managed to croak out a couple of sentences: “He deceived us. We didn’t know! We wanted our research to be something good, not…not this. God, not this…”

“What research? Sokolov said this facility isn’t medical?”

Ricci shook her head, “That’s half right. We _are_ working on cellular repair. But not to help heal…please, Dr. Zeigler! Sokolov said he would kill me if I betrayed him. He threatened my family! I didn’t want to; please, have mercy on us.”

“I’m not going to kill you or anyone else, doctor. But this is now Overwatch business. And they will protect you.”

Sobbing then rattled Ricci’s body, and her hands flew to cover her face. As Angela stood back up, she tucked her gun inside her coat and said, “Mercy to Sparrow. Sokolov was intimidating the other doctors into working for Talon. I’m still not sure what’s really going on with this facility, but I intend to find out.”

“Sparrow to Mercy. We need a rendezvous point. Captain Amari is bringing the Commander and other Overwatch agents.”

Angela walked over to the other side of the room where a large file cabinet hit both floor and ceiling. She started sifting through papers, then said, “That’s a good idea. There’s a lot of information that seems to be in the medical lab that I’m in.”

“They’ve shut down the entire facility, doctor. It appears this Sokolov was not only threatening the other doctors, but all the employees of this outpost.”

Angela wanted to laugh at the disgust in Genji’s tone when he uttered Sokolov’s name, but she settled for a muted smile. “Then Ricci and I will make sure Sokolov can’t leave the room and meet you there.”

“Should I find a way inside, Mercy?” 

Just as Angela had prepared to tell Genji where to meet, her Ricci’s wild screeching interrupted her plans. Dr. Zeigler whipped her head around, reaching into her coat for the gun. 

Sokolov had managed to hobble up onto his feet, and he had a strange device in his hand. It was black and small, like some kind of communicator. He tapped the screen of it, and then the lights that had one brightened the room died. The light from the communicator screen was all that was left to stave off the darkness, and it illuminated Sokolov’s baleful grin with a red glow.

Angela screamed, “What did you do?!”

Genji cried, “What happened?! Mercy?!”

Through the pain, Sokolov said, “You’ve…got five minutes, Dr. Zeigler. I hope…you can save everyone in this place…before it explodes....”

All she could do was let her mouth fall from the shock. Sokolov gave a wet cackle before he said, “It’s…really a shame. Such a…pretty face. I would have…liked you more as my plaything…than a doctor.”

“If you say one more thing, I will shoot this gun,” said Angela, and she tightened her hold on the gun’s grip.  
Sokolov took two sharp breaths, then replied, “Oh, come now, Angela Zeigler. No more games. With a name like Mercy…you’re far too forgiving. I’m sure…you wanted to save me and bring me to justice, yes?”

When she did not respond, Sokolov huffed; Angela guessed that was all he could muster for a laugh. “Dr. Zeigler, your…purity…enraptures me. I want to…taint you so. I’m sad…that my last sight will not be you on your knees…”

It was that last phrase that caused the chain reaction. The rage that simmered within Angela Zeigler had started to overflow, and her mind revoked its control of her hands. In one smooth motion, the gun that she had aimed at Sokolov fired, her fingers pulling the trigger of her own volition. Sokolov, Ricci and Genji all shouted as one, then stopped. The only sound after that was the thud of Sokolov’s body hitting the floor. The detonator in his hand tumbled and landed face up right in front of Dr. Ricci. Sokolov’s body, the wounds and blood were all now curtained by the darkness. Angela did not give herself or Ricci the time to falter. She grabbed both the detonator and Ricci, then stormed out of the medical lab.

“You…you shot him,” Ricci wailed.

“That makes the both of us,” Angela said. Emergency lights lit the floor of the hallway, and she dragged Ricci all the way to the door where they had first come from.

“Mercy to Sparrow. Sokolov triggered a bomb. He said five minutes. Where are the other captains?

Genji shouted once in Japanese then said, “They are not here yet. You must head towards the entrance, doctor! We can begin evac—“

“There’s no time,” Angela snapped as she flung the door open to the lobby. Many of the employees were sitting on the furniture with confused and startled expressions. 

Angela turned to Dr. Ricci and said, “Where are the other doctors?”  
Ricci said, “In the lab on the other side. I don’t know what they’re doing…but I don’t think that they’ve left yet…anyway, Dr. Zeigler! I have something I need tell you.”

Shaking her head, Angela replied, “No, Ricci, you have to get all of these people outside—“

“No, listen, Dr. Zeigler! I know where the bomb and the schematics are! I think we can…well…I mean I guess we can…”

As though the wind was knocked out of her, Angela choked. “…That’s…that’s brilliant, Dr. Ricci! We can disarm the bomb and save everyone!”

“Dr. Zeigler, wait,” Genji interrupted. “Let me inside, and you can evacuate with the rest of the civilians. I can disarm the bomb with Dr. Ricci.”

“You’re the only one who can lead these people back, Sparrow.”

“I cannot let you do this, doctor! Please, reconsider. I am not asking this of you as an Overwatch agent, but as Genji Shimada. I cannot…I cannot…”

The strangled replies, as though he was wrestling with his urge to cry, took Angela off guard. She felt everything inside her quiver, and the sensation was new. The bud in her heart had, in such a short time, began to flower. Had she responded what her as her gut told her to, she would have reassured him like a lover, but she knew that it wasn’t the time or place. Feelings could be discussed after business, but if they were all to make it out alive, she would have to work as fast as lightning.

“I won’t die, and you know that. If I need you, I will call for you. And I expect you to come running, of course. I…want to protect you, too…”

That was as much as she’d let herself say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Ricci raise her eyebrows, so she hurriedly added, “Keep listening as we go. I’ll update you to everything that happens.”

There was a pregnant pause, then Genji said, “Very well, doctor. But if I feel the need, I will come for you.”

Hearing him say such sweet words made Angela want to respond in kind, but she held her tongue. Instead, she seized Ricci by the wrist and asked, “Where is the bomb and the schematics, Dr. Ricci?”

“Well…you see…it’s actually with the other doctors…”

Angela balked for only a second, then she said, “Lead on. Hurry.”

Ricci darted towards the door on the other side of the reception desk that they did not enter, and Angela followed. The hallway, like it’s pair, had a lit floor, and they followed it to a door at the opposite end. The difference her was that another door was at the back of the hall that read “Utilities” on the front. Ricci unlocked the lab door with a keycard, then they walked through. The other doctors were sitting around a dark green duffle bag. What was more shocking were the bodies that were sprawled on the floor in pools of sticky blood. Of the doctors that she had met not long ago, only three remained alive. Both Japanese doctors were dead, as well as the French. Only the Brazilian and Russian doctors were left alive.

Ricci keep her head stiffly facing her living comrades, but Angela didn’t want to stay quiet. She asked, “How did this happen? Are they dead?”

The phrase must have frightened Genji; he asked, “Who is dead?”

Angela replied, “Three of the doctors are dead here. But we’ve definitely found the bomb.”

The living doctors began looking around, but Ricci informed them that Angela had been bugged by Overwatch. Relief flooded their faces.

 “They were loyal to Sokolov,” said the Brazilian doctor. “Ricci and the rest of us…we did it.”

Ricci gestured and said, “I’m sure you remember Dr. Katina, Dr. Orlova and Dr. Santos.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Angela lied through her teeth. But she and the doctors exchanged curt pleasantries before Ricci moved to stand over the table with the rest of them.

“This is the bomb,” Ricci said. She unzipped the bag and removed a black square box; Angela estimated it was about the size of her own head. Ricci and one of the Russian doctors worked on carefully prying off the lid, exposing the bombs wired guts. Angela rubbed both her temples. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on; she recognized the two brown boxes in the middle that read “C4”, but the myriad of colored wires gave her vertigo. It was all she could do to not let the fear of the descending clock numbers make her ill.

The Brazilian doctor moved beside Ricci and pulled out a large white paper from her lab coat, along with a pair of medical scissors.

“I’m guessing Sokolov’s loyalists had the blueprints,” Angela mused aloud.

“Correct,” said Dr. Katina. 

“He taught some of us how to diffuse it in case something went awry,” said Dr. Santos. “I’m just lucky that I paid attention.”

All Angela could do was nod and scratch her head. If the doctors knew what to do, she felt it was best to leave it to them. Ricci and Dr. Santos lead the project, while the Russian Katina and Orlova acted as their assistants. All Angela could do was watch as three minutes became two, then two becoming one.

Once the one minute mark was reached, Dr. Santos wiped her brow and said, “We’ve got this. One more wire left, and—“

The sound of a gunshot cut everything else off. Dr. Ricci’s body jerked backward, then plummeted downward, streaks of the blood that had burst from her painting the white of the walls. Smoke tapered out from the small pistol in Dr. Orlova’s hand, and Angela’s mouth let out an unbidden scream. Fumbling for the gun in her pocket, she found it was far too late. Orlova’s gun rested on her and fired.

Angela allowed herself to make peace with God as she waited for the bullet to pierce her heart, but instead she felt something hard force its way into the muscle of her thigh. The pain made her groan and sent her down light Ricci, but she could still feel her lungs taking in air, her heart still pumping blood to her veins.

Genji had heard the altercation, and was roaring in her ear, but the pain of the bullet that had pierced her leg made it all sound like a discordant ring. She opened her eyes to see Santos and Katina tackling Orlova, both reaching for the gun, but more shots rang out. Orlova had shot poor Santos right between the eyes; there was nothing she could do.

With the last of her strength, Angela pulled the gun she had taken from Sokolov out of her coat and pointed it at the tumbling mass that was Katina and Orlova. The latter had managed to shove the other off, and Angela took that chance to fire. The bullet pierced her back, and blood leisurely blossomed across Orlova’s white coat.

Katina scrambled to her feat, but the sight of the blood and the gunshots and the dead bodies must have been too much for her. Katina’s brown eyes rolled to the back of her head, only the whites and the red veins visible; her body went limp just like the rest.

Gritting her teeth, Mercy forced herself to stand. Pain wormed its way to every corner of her muscle and bone, but she refused to obey her body’s demands. As carefully as she could, she took the bag and looked towards Dr. Ricci. Blood had inundated all her clothes; there was too much for her to have survived. Angela let tears fall in mourning of her, but she didn’t feel her stomach lurch until she saw the schematics for the bomb.

The white paper had been completely consumed by the blood from the diverse doctors, and the prints were completely illegible. A bitter laugh erupted from Angela’s throat, and she grabbed the bag, taking one slow step at a time out of the laboratory.

She used the free had she had to open the door to the utility closet and she shut it behind her. The room was pitch black, save for the angry red numbers counting down her moments left to live. There was just enough light to where she could see the wires that Santos and Ricci had cut Most of them were fragmented, but two solitary wires, one green and one red, remained unbroken. Peering as deeply as the dim light would allow, Angela saw that the medical scissors were in the bag as well.

Closing her eyes, she rested her hot face on the cool wall and let out a breath. The silence was as lethal as the bomb in her lap, but she couldn’t find it in her to make noise. Often, she had thought what the last sound she would hear might be, what the last face she would see might look like. What here last words to impart would mean. But the defeat that had encompassed her took all desire for contemplation with it. She would die with a plethora of regrets, but she could not change her fate. The last thing she would ever live to see would be the sound of an explosion taking this building and everyone in it to the afterlife.

And then, she heard it. Deep and soothing, the balm she had sought to spirit her away from the misery of her last moments. Something she believed she would never hear, especially not at her deathbed.

“Angela,” Genji’s voice came in through her ear.

“Genji,” she half said, half sobbed. “You’re here.”

“I am. You cannot see me, but I am on the other side of this wall.”

Angela twisted her body so that her back was pressed against the pane that separated the two of them. Though most of it was cold, she could feel heat warming her back, bringing focus back to her mind. She knew it was too thick for it to be Genji’s warmth, but she wanted to believe it more than anything.

“Why are you here? How do you know where I am?”

“I used my visor to track you. Once I heard you scream, I turned back. I said I would come for you, and I meant it.”

“Is everyone out?”

“Yes. But, please, tell me what made all that noise. I heard gunshots, so I am assuming most everyone else is dead.”

“Most everyone is, yes. One of the doctors started shooting. I guess they were still loyal to Sokolov, too. One of them just fainted, but…I suppose we’re all dead now.”

“Are you unharmed?”

Placing a hand near the tacky blood on her leg, Angela said, “Well…there’s no point in lying, I guess. I’ve been shot in the thigh. It’s not fatal, but it hurts like hell.”

“…Is the one who shot you dead.”

“I hope so. I shot them.”

Genji’s voice was unsympathetic as he said, “Good.”

“Genji…”

He stopped her by saying, “Let us talk of something else, shall we?”

“Why are you here? You should leave. I don’t want you to die. You still have to finish helping Overwatch defeat the Shimada.”

Genji chuckled lowly and said, “Oh, I have much faith in the power to crush the Shimada. I have done enough. In any case…it would be pointless…if you were not with me to see it.”

The heat from the wall expanded, and so did the joy she felt from Genji’s words. Despite the two of them facing death, she hoped that he was smiling just like he was.  
“…Say…Genji?”

“Yes, Angela?”

“There’s only two wires left. One of them has to disarm this bomb.”

There was a crackle over the mic, then Genji said, “Do you want to cut a wire?”

“I don’t know…I’m…I’m afraid to die, Genji.”

“Feel no shame, Dr. Zeigler. This fear is common; I have it as well.”

“Why, then, are you here?”

Genji said slowly, “Because I am more afraid of living in a world without you in it than anything death can bring. I have a sworn oath. Your fate and mine will forever be intertwined. I know this to be true.”

Tears streamed down Angela’s face. For her last moments, she allowed her strength to deflate. “Why. Why are you like this, Genji? Why is it that you make my heart feel this way? I want to believe what you’re saying…”

“Nothing can stop you, Angela. Open your heart and allow it to embrace what you feel. That is what I have done, and I can say from experience it is truly freeing.”

“Then…can I ask you something?”

“Ask the world of me, and I will give it to you.”

“What makes you say…that our fates are intertwined?”

“…In my country, we have a…what would you call it. A saying? A superstition? We believe…that those with shared destinies are bound together by a red thread. We depict it tied around the smallest finger.”

Angela cast her eyes towards the beeping bomb. The numbers told her she had forty seconds left, and her choice was between a green wire…and a red one. “A red thread,” she said aloud.

“Yes. And so, if you’re fate is to die here today, then so shall mine. My only regret is that I could not help you live. But if you are set to walk into darkness, then I will walk there with you, hand in hand.”

Letting more tears fall, Angela pulled the medical scissors out from the bag, and she kept her eyes on the red wire.

“Genji…one of the wires I have to cut…it’s red.”

“How ironic.”

“I…I think it’s ours. It’s our thread of fate, like you said.”

“Right you must be. It ties us here together now.”

Opening and closing the scissors once, Angela said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I’m going to cut it.”

Genji said forcefully, “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to cut our red string, Genji. If this is it, then I can decide our destiny today. We can live together, or die together. This will decide it.”  
There was another pause on his end, but Genji’s voice came in strong and sure. “Very well, Angela. I leave it in your hands. Lead us down the road we will walk for the rest of eternity. I go happily with you beside me.”

“…Don’t you have regrets, though, Genji?”

“…No. I am here with you. I will die with you. There is no greater honor for me.

“Then…I’m going to do it.”

The final thing Angela heard from Genji was: “Go. I am here”; the rest of it was unintelligible Japanese, but Angela didn’t mind. She allowed herself to take in two deep breaths. The number twenty glared back at her from the bomb, but Angela stared it down without fear. Though Genji’s body was not beside her, she felt his presence like an ethereal flicker beside her. In her mind’s eye, she felt his hand over hers as she slipped the blades of the scissors underneath the red wire, and he helped force her to press down to sever the connection.

_19_

_18_

_17_

And then, nothing. The number 17 stayed motionless before her eyes, and Angela took a moment to process what was happening. She didn’t speak for a long time; she counted down the seconds remaining after the number seventeen. As she came to zero, there was nothing. Just her, the dark room, blood from her gunshot, a bullet in her leg, and a bomb with a timer stuck on one number.

Angela and cut the red thread that had bound both herself and Genji to death.

In the smallest voice she had, Angela said, “It…stopped…”

Over the mic, she heard Genji bellow, “What did you say?!”

Through her sobbing, Angela said, “The bomb stopped, Genji. The timer stopped. I cut the wire. It stopped. My, God.”

“Sparrow to Horus. Mercy and the doctors have successfully disarmed the bomb. She has been injured. No hostiles. I repeat: Mercy is down and there are no hostiles.”

The sound of encroaching freedom was enough to make the tears from Angela come faster and harder. She wept for the doctors who had died needlessly. She wept for the Talon agents who she had been forced to shoot. She wept for Dr. Ricci, who had been so kind to her. She wept for Genji, who had stared down the fires of hell to help take away her loneliness. She wept from the bliss of another chance to live.

And she wept for her own heart, for the clandestine blossom that she now carried within her chest; the truth of what she had been feeling this entire time.

Somehow along the extraordinary road that life had taken her, Angela had fallen in love with Genji Shimada.

~*~*~

“That was certainly one of the worst days of my life,” Genji sighed and let his body sink into Angela’s soft leather chair.

“Oh, you and me both,” Angela said, rubbing the scar left by the bullet on her leg.

She popped another creamy chocolate into her mouth, then gestured to the box. “Help me eat these, Genji, please. I’ll eat the whole box, and that will be awful for me.”

At Angela’s request, Genji complied. He chewed one quickly, then said, “I must say, I am glad you convinced Jack and Reyes to pardon Dr. Ricci.”

Angela nodded and replied, “Considering she manages to escape a bullet to the chest with a long hospital stay, I think she deserved another chance. She and that Dr. Katina were the only survivors, anyway.”

“It was a guilty pleasure of mine to watch you stand up to Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes.”

“They were good men, rest their souls. But sometimes they needed a reality check…”

Angela reached for another chocolate, but she found that Genji and reached for the same peace. Their hands brushed slightly, and she looked up at him. His face was weakly pink, but the smiled pleasantly and gestured to the candy with his chin. It took her a minute to comply, as he scrutinized the lines on his face. Though he appeared older, not much about his skin had changed. Faded scars, light facial hair. She pushed her lips to the side and then said, “Well, let’s share it.”

In one smooth motion, Angela plucked it out of the box and broke it in half, the gooey center dribbling out from both remaining pieces. While she did so, she murmured, “With the dancing…it was the same for me at that moment.”

Genji tilted his head quizzically then said, “Meaning?”

She placed one of the halves back into the box, then stared at her own peace while saying, “You knew how you felt about me at the Gala. For me, it’s when you stayed at that moment. It was when you said that you would give me the world if I asked for it.”

When Angela looked to Genji, his eyes were blazing with passion and resolve. “I meant every word,” he said.

An awkward silence, as well as a fiery tension, hung in the air between them. It seemed every time they started to talk about what happened, they were both too hesitant to say their minds. Angela wanted to tell him that nothing had changed, but the fear of making him leave delayed her. She only had to believe that he felt the same way; if only there was a way to test it.

Genji asked suddenly, “Would you like to share another with me?”

“Oh, sure, yes.”

Picking out a solid piece of chocolate, he moved to sit beside her instead of across. The proximity made Angela’s hands clammy, but not from distress. He held the peace up and said, “Do you remember…the last time we shared chocolates like this?”

Angela paused and searched her memories. When she recovered it, she immediately blushed. It was that moment that had transformed everything between them. What had been their relationship had terraformed their entire lives, and it was something that she knew they had both welcomed with open arms. Each moment she recalled made her ache with a desire to return to it. Their first date, their first time.

Lethargically, Genji stuck on end of the chocolate in his mouth, then inclined his head towards hers.

Like so many times before, Angela’s mind let her body have free reign. And while she lost herself in memories, she bit the exposed piece of chocolate, and felt Genji’s lips graze hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took even longer. I wrote and rewrote. I had to write OC characters to make this work, sorry. Hopefully you guys like this chapter too. It shouldn't be too hard to write everything from this point on. Thanks for all the nice support too! ^w^


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